


done with small town politics [hiatus]

by sparkleeye (orphan_account)



Series: done with small town politics [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Endgame Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, First Time, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Platonic Relationships, Polyamory, Post-Season/Series 02, Rating May Change, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Swearing, safe sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sparkleeye
Summary: andy wilcox comes to hawkins after her father passes away under mysterious circumstances, and she's not leaving until she has answers.or, alternatively: i fell in love with an original character i created strictly for the purpose of giving nancy a much-needed female friend, and thus this was born. featuring endgame harringrove and a bit of m/m + f because i can't help myself. inspired by the dynamics in 'the way he looks' and 'as you are'.





	1. introductions

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i haven't written a fic that really incorporates an original character for several years, let alone written seriously for awhile either, but i got so caught up in/fell in love with this character and couldn't stop myself (hence the reason why i'm posting this on private, for now.)
> 
> i also wanted to attempt some healthy, gradual polyamory and tackle harringrove because season 2 got me Pretty Damn Good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter is all about establishing the story, it's not very long, but please bare with me through this chunk. i blame myself for writing in random chunks and then forcing myself to maintain fluidity by filling the gaps much later.

andy was fifteen when her dad died.

she moved to hawkins from chicago a few months after his funeral to live with her aunt - his older sister - and her uncle. his death was as sudden like a slap in the face. one moment she was talking to him on the phone, perched on a barstool in her mother’s house in chicago whispering excitedly about plans for winter break, and the next she was in indiana, standing over his closed casket in the cold early winter air, without any real answers as to how he died and tears streaming down her face.

chicago was exceptionally miserable after he died. even after his death, her mother looked down on his profession, on his life. on his decision to move away after the divorce years before. his last job, out in indiana, was working at some sort of power plant, or a lab. andy didn’t really know; he didn’t talk about it much. she thought he was a security officer there, guarding whatever the hell he was guarding day-to-day, writing her letters and calling her on the phone at least once a week.

every school vacation he took her on a trip - california twice, both to go to disneyland, up to canada another time, but florida most of the time, just to go see her grandparents and some extended family.

hawkins, indiana was never the city of dream in her eyes. then again, she was only living in chicago with her mom for the school and job opportunities. now with her dad gone without real explanation and no future promises of escape from that god awful apartment with the the too-thin walls in and the city with the too-cold winters, stuck with her undermining mother and her awful condescending boyfriend for the long run, andy called her aunt late one night on the verge of tears and begged for a place to stay.

a short while later and she took their guest room - her older cousin jordan was away at university in pennsylvania and but still staked claim to his bedroom during holidays. she’d been given a week to make it her own, dress it up to the best of her abilities and unpack before starting as a sophomore at hawkins high. it was mid-january when she stepped out of her aunt’s bmw and onto campus, entirely underwhelmed and simultaneously panicking all the while.

andy laid low. she did her homework and studied for tests, walked around town or down to the diner but always stopped at a payphone to call and say when she’d be home, helped out at her aunt’s salon a couple nights out of the month. she did her chores without complaint, without really needing to be asked. her aunt and uncle always called her a _good kid_.

in retrospect, besides just doing what she was supposed to without needing to be asked, andy really was a so-called good kid, at least out here in hawkins. being good-natured wasn’t an act. she didn’t sneak out to go to parties, she didn’t have a secret boyfriend (let alone go on dates at all), she didn’t mouth off or intentionally act out. the pleases and thank you’s and offering to do the dishes was a facade she used in order to spend hours at the library searching hawkins town history and copying down every news article about the lab she could find.

of course, most of them were destroyed or altered in some way.

a year passed and the leaves were on the ground again, it was fucking cold and frozen and not as bad as chicago, but not any better either. she was born in florida, out on the edge of fort lauderdale, with the humid and hot summers and rain storms and lightning.

andy missed the heat. she missed being tan. 

+

two weeks before christmas break of her junior year, andy heard nancy wheeler and her boyfriend, along with her ex-boyfriend, all huddled up at a table in the back of the cafeteria whispering about the hawkins lab. they were the _only_ people talking about the hawkins lab.

nancy wheeler was in her modern lit class. she was easily one of the top students and never really spoke out of turn in class. she was almost never late and never really skipped - to andy’s knowledge, of course, as they weren’t really friends - and always did the reading and homework on time. she was pretty, too, with soft brown hair and big blue eyes that sometimes made andy’s chest go all tight when they worked on assignments together in class.

she didn't know him well but recognized jonathan easily, usually in black and next to nancy, the two of them walking around school together with their shoulders pressed together and holding hands. she knew he takes pictures, these really great pictures that nancy sometimes had, and andy would try and sneak a peek whenever they sat close together.

and he was quiet, helped her up one day when she slipped in a puddle streaked across the linoleum in the main hallway. she’d fallen straight on her ass and _why wasn’t there a damn sign marking it as wet_ and then jonathan was offering her hand and a slight smile. she’d stuttered out a thank you in passing as he’d walked off in the opposite direction, offering a small wave but not stopping or really turning back.

then there was steve harrington, someone who’d still more or less been at the top of the food chain when she started at hawkins but had slowly fallen down the social ladder. apparently nancy had broken up with him recently at that point and started seeing jonathan; now she saw him running around with nancy’s kid brother and his friends every now and then. she figured he got a gig as a babysitter, couldn’t imagine he needed the money though.

usually he was at the at the arcade, steve leaning up against a machine watching in nonchalance, maybe itching to join the kids every now and then, or at the diner. one time she’d seen him cut one of the kid’s pancakes for him and whacked him on the head for trying to wolf down his food too fast. two mondays previous, steve had come to school with a nasty set of bruises and cuts on his face. it was obvious he’d been in a fight. andy didn’t see him as the fighting type, of course though, she’d been wrong before.

curiosity had taken over and she asked nancy in class if steve was ok. she’d just nodded slowly while looking off into the distance. it was a bit off-putting, worrisome even. andy didn’t push any further and kept her distance for the time being, up until she’d heard the hushed whispering about the hawkins lab from within nancy’s small group.

that was when she decided to push again.

+

andy had cornered jonathan in the hallway after lunch the next day and asked if he knew anything about the hawkins lab, but he’d just sputtered something about being late for class and ran off in the opposite direction. a few people stared at her like a complete weirdo but she tried not to think about it.

next attempt was steve, who she caught as he exited the boys’ locker room. he was wearing tight green p.e. shorts and a hawkins high athletic tee. she’d trailed behind him and asked the same pressing question, and steve had froze where he stood before shaking his head and throwing out a, “no, sorry!” before jogging off to the gym.

that meant nancy was her last bet.

after english class she waited behind while nancy packed her things up and followed her out of class. the second they were out of the doorway andy had rushed her question out and nancy just turned to her with a perplexed expression. “what’re you talking about?” 

“i heard you, steve harrington and jonathan talking about the hawkins lab at lunch the other day. the only things i’ve heard about it was that thing with the toxins, but-”

“it was pretty nasty,” nancy cut her off, voice sharp, and her fists clenched, “they were doing some super illegal stuff there and my friend died because of that super illegal stuff. people don’t like to talk about it.”

nancy then just raised her eyebrows and was on her way, but andy was quick on her heels and swallowed roughly before saying, “my dad was a security officer there and he died last year because of it,” maybe a little too loud.

and nancy stopped dead in her tracks, a few people griping at the sudden stop in the busy hallway. she turned to peer over her shoulder at a girl she hardly knew. sometimes they talked about music or soap operas but usually didn’t stray too far into casual conversations.

nancy faced her fully and sighed. andy was all dark wavy hair, freckles, and long eyelashes. she wore tight jeans with lace-up suede boots and patterned blouses that were always buttoned a little low, like she was modeling herself straight out of fashion magazines. she was always tapping her fingers, always manicured - courtesy of her aunt, nancy at least knew that - and ring clad, on her notebook, and had several studs pushed through various holes in her ears. she had a _nose stud_ , something very few people at hawkins high had or could get away with. she was very big-city-stuck-in-a-small-town.

she was not the same person that andy was, not in the slightest, but now she felt bad and sighed nonetheless as she took her arm to drag her down a nearby hallway leading to the soccer fields.

“listen,” nancy whispered, “the hawkins lab was doing… a lot of really bad stuff. dangerous stuff. it was killing people, but i can’t really tell you what exactly was going on because first off, i’m not really supposed to, and second, you probably wouldn’t believe me if i told you.”

“my dad worked there for awhile and never got sick or hurt, he just never talked about it, but when he died everyone just said it was an accident and i couldn’t even see him. we had a closed casket funeral.” andy’s voice was so low that it mixed with the voices of the bustling hallway. “could he have gotten sick from the lab? like your friend did?”

nancy had to look away, seeing barb’s face behind her eyelids as she blinked rapidly.

and that’s how it started - after that, nancy had fought andy tooth and nail not to dig farther, not to let herself become dragged down with knowing because there was something so impermanent and unsettling about the gate being closed and she didn't want anyone else to have nightmares every night because of it. el had closed it, but she’d also opened it to come back, which meant it could possibly be opened again. over and over again.

a week of pestering and nancy had been completely worn down, invited andy over with jonathan and steve to help. jonathan was the most help, looking at her sullenly when she’d maybe said too much. steve just talked about the monsters, becoming animated while demonstrating how he’d used his bat to keep the troublemakers safe. he did avoid the topic of his fight with billy completely, though - didn’t want to think about it at all. he barely knew this person, it was really none of her business. he couldn’t even believe nancy had even goaded him into actually talking about it all, let alone with a stranger, or that he'd complied.

it was strange though, because just like that andy slowly became a friend. she promised to not talk about the lab or anything relating to it at school, and in the recesses of nancy’s bedroom they poured over the newspapers and photocopied articles that nancy had corrected. at school, andy sat with them during lunch instead of behind the art building with her headphones on listening to mixtapes composed of everything from the eurythmics to iron maiden. she’d pair up with nancy on projects in class and sometimes andy would tag along after school and get a ride home from jonathan.

they went shopping together one weekend and andy helped nancy pick out a new outfit for a possible nice night she'd been planning with jonathan, simultaneously trying to find her the best and most pigmented eyeshadow singles and lipsticks, but nancy had argued that she wasn't quite ready to move away from the soft glitters and nudes quite yet.

nancy hadn’t had that much fun in ages and even jonathan brought it up, asked if she was smoking something when he picked them up from the mall, the two giggling nonstop. nancy liked having andy around even though she didn’t know her superbly well. she pushed andy to invite her over that weekend instead of the two of them being stuck in the wheeler household with her brother - mike, andy had finally learned his name - and his friends shouting and running around the basement like animals.

luckily, andy caved and the two hitched a ride from jonathan to andy’s place after school. the house was much like her own - a two story with brick and wood paneling, complete with browning shrubbery lining a brick path to the front door. nancy didn't know what she was expecting.

“it’s changed a lot since i was a kid. when my cousin moved out they started doing all these home improvement projects, just like this,” andy told her, “and i got the guest room instead of his room, but my uncle refurbished all the furniture, so it looks way newer than it is.”

the inside of the house was warm and quiet. it felt lived in with the little decorative pieces on almost every surface of the living room, all little porcelain figurines, vases, doilies. golden afternoon light poured in from between the slats of the blinds and flooded the carpet with yellow stripes. nancy just admired the homeyness of it while andy dug around in the well-lit kitchen looking for some snacks and plastic cups.

eventually she followed andy upstairs and they entered through the last door at the right end of upstairs hallway. inside, cut outs of various singers and movie posters lined the walls alongside andy’s own doodles and some framed paintings. a handful of houseplants lined the window ledge next to the bed, queen sized and pushed up against the far wall. andy’s desk was littered with pencils, small figurines and some textbooks, a real mess of clippings and cuttings and notes in contrast to her vanity next to the door, which was perfectly polished and lined with various bottles and tubes. it was all lived in, personal, and it felt like nancy had reached some kind of unknown goal by being there.

they’d listened to blondie’s _parallel lines_ album on the record player and ate leftover cold pizza while smoking a joint out the open window during sunset. nancy borrowed some pajamas and they whispered about the lab, theorized why andy’s father wasn’t allowed to be seen before or during the funeral.

“maybe he was attacked,” andy tried, and nancy thought she was insane for actually believing in the monsters steve had told her about, “i mean, anything can happen, and if this super secret lab was dabbling in god knows what, it’s possible, right?”

“i’m surprised by how open you are to all of this. i wouldn’t believe it if i were you.” andy just smiled and leaned against nancy’s shoulder, pressed against her there while she passed her the joint.

“crazier shit has happened, will happen.”

and andy was right.


	2. crying on the bathroom floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to chapter two and thus the prequel to some serious angst. another warning ahead of time - the perspective does change between nancy and andy a bit this chapter, but i tried to keep it divided so it's not constantly switching off.

andy finds peace for the first time in far too long when she’s with nancy, jonathan and steve. the first week back at school after christmas break she’d made them all paintings, bought them some small things with money she got for helping out at the salon, just to say thank you for being around. for nancy it’s a pair of dangling silver earrings she’d found at a craft fair she’d been dragged to, for jonathan it’s a new camera bag, and then steve - some mixtapes she prays he’ll like.

she’s never really alone with steve at all, but sometimes nancy’s too busy kissing jonathan in the parking lot to let andy in the car and if she waits long enough steve will up and unlock the passenger side door with a genuinely charming smile.

usually they listen to the radio and make small talk but it never goes past that. she pays him back in crumpled bills and a collection of baked goods she makes out of boredom at home. it’s nice, though, to see her circle slowly but surely expanding, even if it’s just for rides. one day there’s a thirteen year old boy in the passenger side and andy crawls in the backseat, immediately realizes it’s the same boy that steve had smacked in the back of the head and cut up his breakfast at the diner.

“hey, i gotta take dustin home first, that ok? he has a doctor’s appointment and i told his mom i wouldn’t let him screw around after school today,” steve is looking at andy in the rearview mirror waiting for confirmation and she nods, of course it’s fine. the engines starts quietly and they’re out of the parking lot.

“i’m andy, nice to meet you, dustin,” andy says and she leans up between their seats, “you’re mike’s friend, right? i think i’ve seen you at the wheeler’s house a few times.”

“yeah, yeah,” dustin confirms, voice cracking a little and cheeks a little pink, “nice to meet you.”

he shakes her hand and andy totally catches steve rolling his eyes all fond, musses dustin’s hair a bit even until he makes a displeased noise and shoves steve’s hand away, leans against the window and turns the radio up.

they’re only in the car for a little bit but andy likes talking to dustin - he’s a good kid, likes comic books and biology and video games. he nearly hops out of the car when they pull up to his house and steve manages a wave to dustin’s mother in passing, a woman in her late thirties standing at the door holding a little siamese in her arms.

“he’s so cute, it’s like you’re his big brother, he absolutely adores you,” andy gushes, crawling up in the front seat carefully and buckling up before steve drives off.

steve shrugs, doesn’t really look at her. there is a little smile on his face, though. “he’s a good kid. needs someone to look out for him.”

“what about the other kids, hm? they need looking out for too?” andy asks. she leans on the little compartment between their seats and raises her eyebrows at him.

steve shrugs again, still smiling a bit. “it’s a package deal with them.”

+

that january is full of cold nights wrapped up in blankets in nancy’s room, sometimes andy’s because her aunt and uncle are usually out with their friends doing god knows what. she doesn’t really care as long as they aren’t swingers - she’d probably have to go back to chicago if that was the situation. wouldn’t be able to make eye contact with them.

they watch _a christmas story_ at andy’s one weekend and even though it’s after christmas she essentially forces them to partake in the viewing and gets so mad that it wasn’t more popular when it came out. she thinks they all enjoyed it ok, and jonathan’s won over at least, even though he doesn’t really like comedies, let alone holiday films. she thinks the sarcasm and imagination of the film had gotten to him, or he just enjoys it because he thinks his brother will.

afterwards they all park in front of the fireplace and drink hot chocolate with reddi-whip and extra marshmallows.

it’s a welcomed sense of normalcy and warmth, looking around at three other people she really enjoys spending time with. it’s not fake with any of them - they’re all real and loud and holding onto each other through the panic of this ‘upside down’ place and the heartache that is small town life. at the end of the night, they all bid well-wishes and see you monday’s and drive home, trudging through the snow and slipping down the icy brick walkway on their way out.

everything’s going fine, it’s going strangely fine and andy knows something is going to happen. nancy tells her to stop being so paranoid, you’ll psych yourself out and andy tries, she really does. nancy knows she’s still thinking about it but doesn’t continue to pester.

but nancy’s wrong about andy being paranoid, and nancy being wrong is something that doesn’t happen often - andy learns this quickly - and when she tells her what happens there is only shock on her face.

andy gets asked to tutor billy hargrove in their a.p. history class because he’s falling behind.

she hardly knows him, knows he’s newer to hawkins than she is, his step-sister max is in the so-called “party” that contains dustin and both nancy’s and jonathan’s younger brothers, plus no one in her newly acquired group is especially fond of him. then there’s also the fact he’s not always very nice and steve really doesn’t along with him. they just glare at each other in passing in the hallway and the air goes still around them whenever it happens. oh, and his shirts are always unbuttoned and he’s fucking built and it pisses andy off.

“just make him some flashcards and let him borrow your notes, he doesn’t actually have to go to your house or whatever,” nancy argues, and she’s rubbing her hands together, freezing in the parking lot. she’d completely forgotten her gloves and jonathan had to stay late in the photo lab that day, of course.

“anderson gave me a fucking lesson plan, otherwise i would. apparently billy won’t be able to play ball if he falls behind in his classes, so i have to actually help him. and if he fails because i don’t want to help, he’s going to kill me.”

nancy wrinkles her nose in annoyance and doesn’t press the issue further. jonathan finally comes out of the lab and the three nearly jog to his car with him huffing out apologies about someone not setting up the darkroom stations correctly and him having to fix it before the first year students developed their film the next morning.

andy’s low on cash until saturday and promises to make him some chocolate chip muffins to pay him back for the rides that week, won't let him say no this time.

+

nancy becomes slightly worried when andy doesn’t tell her how tutoring went in explicit deal. _fine_ honestly doesn’t cut it in her book but she doesn’t press or snoop, just takes it for what it’s worth. she watches as all the girls who’d been drooling over billy and his tight jeans glare and grimace whenever andy walks past them and it really ticks her off; she doesn’t deserve that. she doesn’t even _want_ to tutor him.

apparently andy doesn’t like the staring and whispered words very much either and she ends up in detention, _detention_ , for smacking carol in the back of the head with a textbook in the girls’ locker room two days later.

nancy waits back in the library until detention lets out and then she’s rushing to the other brunette, suddenly giddy about the fact that someone actually smacked carol. nancy wasn’t a particularly violent person unless she needed to be, and damn did she get caught up in it when she needed to be.

“why’d you do it?” nancy asks a little excitedly, eyeing carol who’s just sending daggers in their direction as she fast-walks off towards the student parking lot. andy just shrugs, a coy smile spreading across her face.

“she was being extra bitchy and she just happened to be close to me while i was holding my english book. pure coincidence and a lesson packed in one.” nancy laughs and the two walk to andy’s place that day.

but slowly, surely, the silence about the tutoring sessions starts to eat at nancy and she demands to know what’s going on, but andy stands by her previous statements and only says that billy likes to do anything but study until you actually convince him to do so, and then he won’t look up from the textbooks for nearly half an hour at a time. apparently he loves to read, he’s a really good student, but he was out for two days during a huge chapter review and hadn’t caught up yet.

“there’s really nothing to report nance, he brings his tapes over and we listen to them while we study, he looks at the outlines i write out and then we quiz each other. tonight my aunt’s home and he’s staying for dinner. that’s all.”

nancy frowns and makes sure andy knows she’s not satisfied with that reply, but yet again doesn’t press matters further.

then billy drives andy to school the next day and nancy flips her shit.

she’s still sitting in the car with jonathan, the two of them looking at a newspaper to see if anything was playing at the hawk, and the camaro roars into the parking lot. nancy already saw steve pull up five minutes ago, andy not with him, and supposes she’s sick. but then, out of the corner of her eye, she watches as andy slides out of the passenger side of billy’s car and she throws the newspaper off her lap, into jonathan’s face, and hurriedly jumps out of the passenger side. jonathan is left a little speechless and grabs her backpack, cautiously getting out behind her.

nancy runs over to andy, who’s putting her headphones on, and nearly pushes her over with the force of how fast she was running.

“nance, what the-”

“what the hell!” nancy shouts, “why are you coming to school with billy fucking hargrove!” and it’s not a question, it’s a demand. andy stutters for a second, putting her walkman away before answering. nancy’s ears are pink, her lips are a tight line and her hands are on her hips, just like her mother when she was mad about something.

“he wanted to pay me back for having dinner at my house last night! christ alive, calm down!”

and andy’s off to class, throwing nancy a bewildered look over her shoulder as the first bell rings. nancy catches billy walking a few feet behind her, dressed in all denim. she glares at the back of his head and pulls jonathan, who’s just caught up, into the building with her.

luckily nancy calms down a bit by lunch, tries to just take it as it is - a ride, nothing more. she slides in next to andy at their designated table and bumps her shoulder like usual, trying to signify she’s sorry and that it’s all ok. andy smiles and her lays her head on nancy’s shoulder for a beat and it’s all fine. jonathan just hesitates by the table for a second though, holding his thermos like he’s almost afraid to sit down out of fear that this is all the calm before the storm. steve is just staring at him very confused, gaze switching between jonathan and the two girls.

“jonathan, it’s fine, just sit down,” nancy says, but he still settles down onto the bench a little too slowly. he doesn’t want to be part of a fight and will run if he must.

+

the next monday is when it all starts, pops off like a firecracker. all nancy hears about is cheryl bruckner’s party on saturday - the drinks, the people caught making out, who got super drunk - the second she walks into school. she’s holding onto jonathan’s arm a little more tightly than usual because the hallway is extra rowdy closer to the science rooms.

“something’s wrong,” nancy whispers hoarsely, “andy was fucking right, something happened.”

jonathan nods slowly. “let’s just go see what happened. if it’s nothing, then we leave, okay?”

nancy lets herself be guided forward and shit, yeah, there’s a group of all the kids both her and jonathan are not particularly fond of standing in a circle around billy hargrove’s locker. the two of them almost pray it’s not steve standing there with him, that there’s not going to be another fight, because they will intervene this time if they have to. fights are really not what steve needs right now, just months away from graduation.

nancy pushes past some guys on the basketball team when she hears someone’s back hit a locker, shoves them aside and she nearly drops her chem textbook when she sees andy pushing billy against a locker and he is laughing in her face, running his tongue over his teeth like he always does, disgustingly cocky, and she’s up in his face, yelling “what the hell!” over and over and pressing at this shoulders surprisingly hard for someone of her stature.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” billy says, smirking and winking to tommy and some of the guys in his inner circle, who all laugh and wolf whistle, and andy fucking backhands him out of the blue and everyone stops cheering and laughing for a second. there’s a beat of silence where andy’s just glaring at him, then she’s shoving past people and sprinting down the hallway in the direction of the girl’s bathroom. the chatter immediately starts up again after that.

billy’s jaw is set tight and nancy catches his eye for a split second, stares at his red cheek, and feels someone right behind her - steve.

“whoa whoa, what the hell is going on?” he asks, all tense in stature and eyeing billy, who’s still leaning against the locker, carefully.

“i don’t know, there was something about a party and then andy shoved billy into a locker and slapped him and, shit, i have to go find her, you two stay here!” and nancy makes sure they know to not intervene and she’s jogging down the hallway, anxiously looking for andy before she checks the girl’s bathroom.

+

nancy let andy cry into her sweater for a good ten minutes and they miss the beginning of first period. andy tells her what really happened between sobs and nancy’s stomach twists uncomfortably and swears if she had the hand gun right now she’d definitely be aiming it someone.

nancy dries her eyes with the flimsy toilet paper provided and they sit on the floor for a moment, andy letting nancy fix her hair and powder her face a bit. “you can go home if you want, i can tell the office you weren’t feeling well,” nancy tries.

she pulls her up with ease but andy’s eyes are still wet and her nose is still red and nancy would really take a hoard of monsters over this any day. andy hiccups out a response. “but it’s not going to stop if i go home, i have to come back tomorrow and it’s just going to keep happening for god knows how long! a girl i went to school with in chicago had to change districts just because people thought she was sleeping with the football captain!”

andy still insists on going to class though, telling nancy she has to do it or people will just continue to assume she’s guilty and running away from the truth. nancy lets her go with reluctance, her chest tight as she watches all the heads turn in stare as andy creeps into first period late. there was the promise that they’d be together in modern lit next period and nancy swears she’ll be the one in detention for smacking someone in the head with a book.

nancy only gets a warning when she comes into class late, thank god, and in between classes she finds steve standing by her locker with his arms crossed, just like he used to. she raises her eyebrows at him in a form of silent greeting and he gets really close and whispers, “hey, what the hell happened? people are saying really nasty shit about andy and you just ran off earlier.”

nancy sighs, pressing her forehead against the side of her locker. her head hurts. “it’s all...bullshit. just don’t believe anything people are saying, okay?” she grabs her english book out of her locker and steve’s scowling, perplexed, right passed her at the linoleum floor. he’s thinking, trying to figure out what part of what people are saying is bullshit. nancy puts her hand on his arm for half a second, just to get him to look at her.

“did she do something with billy though?” and his voice is low, too quiet. she absolutely can’t believe him sometimes, even now.

“oh my god, why is that important, just. don’t believe what people say!” and she shuts her locker, cheeks warm, and she heads off to second period, leaving steve standing there, dumbfounded.

thankfully the rest of the day passes by without too much drama. there’s some whispering in class and when andy passes large groups in the hallway, then someone writes ‘EASY’ in red lipstick on her locker, but she just scrubs it off angrily with the palm of her hand, the waxy streak bright and crimson against her skin.

after school, jonathan joins them as they walk across the parking lot. steve’s beamer is parked right next to the brown ford and he’s leaning against the driver’s side with a cigarette pinched between his lips. “hey, you okay?” he asks. both nancy and jonathan peer at him quizzically.

“this is fucking idiotic,” andy mutters, only really half answering him whilst also thinking out loud, “i should’ve never gone to that party. i shouldn’t have agreed to tutor him if i knew this was going to happen.”

steve just makes a _yikes_ type expression and slides into his car. the door remains open and he gestures to andy with his cigarette. “do you want a ride or are you cool going with them?” he asks, “i was going to the DQ on quinlan to get a dipped cone. figured you’d want, or maybe need one today.”

“andy, go with steve and get some ice cream.” nancy’s not suggesting it, she’s telling andy at this point and pulls her in for a hug, rubbing her back a bit when she hears the sniffling start up again. “it’ll be better tomorrow, i promise.”

and andy just sighs into nancy’s shoulder, grips at her sweater for a second before she reluctantly lets go. she goes around to the passenger side and gets into steve’s car, both of them sending nancy a wave as they head off to the dairy queen a few blocks away.

“well i really hate him now,” nancy says all of a sudden, and jonathan looks absolutely confused. “billy hargrove, not steve.”

“oh. he’s kind of a dick, nancy.”

“i know, i know, but she said he was being pretty nice to her when she was tutoring him. like, maybe this whole douchebag thing is just a persona. but if it’s not, i’m going to shoot him. i swear to god jonathan, i’m going to shoot him.”

jonathan shrugs, tosses his things into the backseat of the car. “hopper will understand if you do. but if this is all an act, seeing how things work around here, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

nancy then glares at the camaro long and hard. it’s a few rows away yet she still catches billy’s gaze for half a second as he sucks down a cigarette. he stares back, looking a bit foolish with his cheek still an angry scarlet color. it's not intimidating at all. she breaks eye contact and slides into jonathan’s car, knowing billy hargrove was able to see how pissed off she is at him. it brings her a sense of satisfaction and she resists a wicked smile as jonathan peels out of the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! kudos/con-crit/comments are very much appreciated! chapter three will be out soon, and i've gotten pretty far with a very long, random chunk of this story, which'll probably end up being in chapter 4 or 5. 
> 
> edit: there are also going be some more perspective shifts throughout the fic, as i still want to have all the older kids involved in one way or another even as it dips off into more "shippy" territory!


	3. days roll by, nothing changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so fired up to get to the Angst and Drama that i was dying just trying to tie everything together in this chapter! it's all about the little things here and i promise the real fun will take off in the next few chapters, which will also be much longer! also, please note that the perspectives are going to be changing throughout each chapter!
> 
> lastly - the few times i wrote 'pop' in here instead of soda, my california-born-and-raised ass died just a little, but i felt it was the better word choice because of the midwest (i blame family from michigan for that, ok).

by wednesday afternoon, the taunting has already gone down a good amount. that or it’s just not as noticeable. someone does write _slut_ on andy’s locker in sharpie before she arrives that morning, but she just borrows some rubbing alcohol from the chemistry room and rubs it off with a paper towel.

turns out the ice cream “date” with steve had turned out much better than intended.

steve still isn’t super close with andy, doesn’t even know why she was in hawkins in the first place. he just tags along to her place because nancy and jonathan do. it's never really personal between the two of them, usually just talking about music, tv shows and school. he can’t spend all hours watching the kids, needed to be around people his age, and seeing his ex and sort-of former-enemy-turned-friend together was much less painful now. sitting with them at lunch doesn’t make his throat get all tight anymore. it was much easier with someone else to focus on instead, too, always half-listening to whatever andy was talking about instead of watching jonathan’s arm rest on nancy’s shoulder or around her waist.

he knows that andy knows they’re not as tight as she is with nancy, even after only a month and a half, but nancy needed a friend again, someone close to what barb had been. nancy already leans her head on andy’s shoulder with ease and it really does make him happy to see her slipping into a sense of normalcy, even though andy was in the know about some of the upside down shit.

it wasn’t an innocent friendship based on escaping the monsters and the blood and the sickness. andy had pushed herself into their circle, demanded answers and they’d let her in with reluctance at first, but steve likes how upfront she is with them, how he’d said the word  _monsters_  and andy had shrugged like she’d heard worse. she was much too good at pretending that things were peachy and that was something they all needed.

“you know, i’m not being nice to you just because you’re nancy’s friend,” he’s said the previous afternoon.

they had settled into his car, both sporting a chocolate dipped cone with chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream. andy was biting the shell off in pieces, slowly revealing the ice cream underneath as she plucked broken chunks off with her fingers and tossed them into her mouth.

“i know that,” andy reassured him, gestured to him with a sliver of chocolate shell, “and i know we’re not super close or anything either, but i like to consider you a friend.”

there was a beat of silence before steve answered with a simple, “okay,” and they sat in the parking lot finishing their respective cones and listening to an old genesis album.

and then on wednesday andy walks into school and steve’s talking about the latest _miami vice and_  watches how confused she looks because she missed last week’s episode when she was tutoring. steve’s about to detail what the case had been when andy’s knocked back a little bit, complete with an audible _ow_. she’d managed to walk right into billy hargrove’s shoulder while he was talking to vicki, leaning up against her locker and whispering close to the other girl.

he turns to acknowledge steve, raising his eyebrows in a  _are you fucking kidding me_ _?_   sort of manner and then andy sends him a death glare that steve’s a little terrified of himself. she shoves billy’s shoulder, hard.

“pay attention, hargrove,” she bites out, pinching the dark grey of steve’s sweater between her fingers as she pulls him along.

steve can see the deep-set frown on billy’s pink lips as andy tugs him away but doesn’t say anything about it. he just watches billy rub his shoulder and stare them down as he continues to listen to whatever vicki had been saying.

+

at lunch, nancy’s watching andy carefully. she’s in a bad mood and it’s not something that been a common occurance up until this point, so nancy’s a little bit concerned.

“hey,” she tries, “you okay?”

andy just grumbles and takes a bite of her ham sandwich.

“you’re being a serious grouch, so either fess up or knock it off,” she frowns.

andy looks at her a little offended, hand on her chest, but then she’s putting her sandwich down and resting her chin on her hands. the glare from one of her rings is blinding. “i literally ran into billy hargrove twice today, once this morning when i was walking with steve, then again right before i got here.” andy runs her hands through the dark curls running down her shoulders, shaking her hair out a bit as she does so. “the second time was really fun, let me tell you.” 

andy takes another bite of her sandwich and sips off of steve’s open coke that sits abandoned at their table while he’d ran off to grab some food. nancy just stares at her, waiting for the details, and smacks andy’s hand when she goes in to steal another gulp of steve’s pop.

“yeesh, fine! i was grabbing my lunch from my locker and he comes in and corners me, shirt all unbuttoned and everything, and he asks me what my problem is? my problem! ha!” andy rolls her eyes, “and i’m all, ‘what do you want, hargrove’ and he was like, _inches_ from my face nance, and tells me i need to chill out and stop being so uptight about everything that happened so we can keep doing it.”

nancy glares, sitting up a bit to gaze across the cafeteria and she spots jonathan coming in from the other entrance, but no sight of billy. scoots down so she’s still sitting across from andy, but now jonathan has more room to sit and settles in with a sigh.

“what’re you guys talking about?” he asks, digs around in his backpack, “also, did i do something wrong?”

nancy pecks his cheek and smooths down the collar of his shirt, affection returning to her face as she shakes her head, but then she’s looking back to andy just as steamed as she was before. “billy hargrove is bugging andy now, apparently he got up in her face right before lunch period and she ran into him this morning too.”

jonathan makes a face, irritated, and pulls out a thermos full of chicken noodle soup. “what’s his problem?”

he uncaps the thing but is still scowling into it as he gets a good spoonful of broth.

andy shrugs, about to attempt to take another sip of steve’s pop but then he’s suddenly there, settling onto the bench next to her, and she slyly tries to move her hand away. steve catches it though, gives her a bit of a bemused frown before he passes her the can and peels back the lid on his applesauce.

“what’s up?” he asks, sidling into the conversation.

“billy hargrove has beef with andy,” nancy muses, taking in a spoonful of chocolate pudding, “because he doesn’t like that she’s pissed at him.”

steve smirks at that and steals his drink back from andy. “welcome to the club, wilcox,” he jokes. andy doesn't even want to know.

“ _he_ was the one who decided to be an asshole, i think i’m allowed to be mad, aren’t i? am i being unfair?” andy whines, pressing her forehead into the lunch table. “i’m here for a year and nothing happens, and then in barely two months i finally make some friends and this shit blows up.”

nancy pats her back a little sarcastically and yes, she’s learned that andy can be a little melodramatic at times, but at least she doesn’t stir the pot, whisper out rumors while they’re walking down the hallway, get into fights. well, the one incident with the book doesn’t count, and neither was the slap. _that_ was justice.

“it’ll be fine, just make sure he knows you’re not having it and hopefully he’ll leave you alone, ok?” nancy suggests, patting the back of andy’s head while she continues to grumble, and steve steals a bite of her sandwich as payback for her chugging half of his drink.

+

andy’s bad mood lifts by the time school’s over and she pointedly glares at billy the next time they cross paths in the hallway. she leans her head on nancy’s shoulder as they’re walking out of the main building, thanks her for being a good friend. nancy, of course, acts like it’s nothing even though she does appreciate the comment.

“you wanna know why i really hit carol with that book?” andy says all of a sudden, and nancy looks at her perplexed, looking glass eyes all wide. “she was shit-talking you like crazy in the locker room. the second i came in all i hear is _nancy wheeler this_ and _nancy wheeler that_ and i told her to knock it off like, three times, and then she whispers - like i’m not standing right behind her - to trish about how you’re probably still letting steve screw you because you feel bad about breaking up with him, and then how jonathan and steve probably get to tag team you and i just, i just fucking hit her so hard with the book and almost didn’t realize i did it.”

nancy’s eyes glaze over a little bit as andy retells carol’s nasty theories. the two of them know it’s just because carol lives for gossip and there’s only so much of it in hawkins, but she was always hitting below the belt and nancy loathed it. andy knew she always put on a brave face and tried not to let the occasional whisper get to her head, but she also couldn’t stand it some days and just laid in bed with jonathan at the byers’ house and let him stroke her hair for a good twenty minutes before her mood lightened up again.

“you hit her because she was shit-talking me?” nancy asks, and her voice is so uncharacteristically quiet when she says it.

“of course, you’re my friend! plus you totally babied me when i had a complete meltdown in the girls bathroom after you know what-”

and nancy just clings to andy for a moment, her arms tight around the other girl’s ribcage and her fingers digging into the soft fabric of her black sweater.

“thank you, i mean it. i really mean it.”

andy holds her back and jonathan watches from a few paces away with a small smile on his face.

+

that friday, andy comes over to nancy’s to spend the night and work on an english project together. steve’s car is parked in front of the house when they get there, having walked so jonathan could stay late at school and work in the photo lab, without the pressure of having to finish hastily and drive.

“he’s probably still trying to learn how to play that board game with mike and the others, they’ve been trying to teach him for two months now,” nancy says with a giggle, and then andy’s following her down the basement steps, “you should probably meet the kids because you’re here so much now.”

andy nods slowly, vaguely aware of their faces but not their names. nancy had told her the ‘party’ - as they were referenced to often - knew more about this so-called upside down place than really anyone else and if she really wanted to know what was going on, she’d have to win their trust and ask.

“hey nerds, be social for two seconds and meet my friend,” nancy calls out.

the kids are circled around the board and sitting on mismatched chairs and stools, and steve’s there looking absolutely distraught sitting there rubbing his temples, leaning on the table with dustin whispering strategies in his ear. mike looks at him expectantly with the gameplay booklet open in front of him.

“nancy, andy, please save me, i’m a lost cause,” steve groans.

“you’ll learn with time, young grasshopper,” dustin muses, patting steve’s shoulder, “hi andy.”

andy nods to him with a smile and jonathan’s brother will is there, waving hello, already aware of who she is, then there’s a dark skinned boy with short hair parked next to dustin and pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with billy’s step sister, maxine. he’s whispering to her about the gameplay and she looks about as dumbfounded as steve does, but at least she’s running her action plan past him while steve appears flat-out miserable.

“that’s lucas, and then there's max,” nancy says, “guys, c’mon, be polite. andy _knows_.”

the kids all turn to her simultaneously and it’s a little frightening, honestly.

“but how much does she know?” lucas asks, raising an eyebrow in nancy’s direction.

“enough, so far. something happened to someone she knows because of the lab, and she’s been surprisingly open to what we’ve told her.”

the kids don’t look completely sold and andy wrings her hands together, suddenly feeling like she needs to explain the situation if they’re going to be ok with her being around. her throat feels tight.

“my dad was a security guard at the lab and he died almost two years ago now. we weren’t allowed to see his body or go to his house after he died, and people from the lab came to his funeral to make sure we didn’t try anything funny. i didn’t get any answers about what happened other than ‘an accident’ and every news article and journal entry that covered his death has either been altered or destroyed. there’s a possibility he got killed by those monster things or god knows what, just because he worked at the lab, and if that’s the case then i want to know the truth regardless of how crazy it could be.”

andy loathes talking about her dad. steve catches her gaze appearing genuinely surprised and it’s then that she realizes not even he knew - all nancy had really told him was that something happened to someone she knew, that was all. there had been no elaboration.

“it was your dad?” he asks, and his tone is light despite the sadness just seeping into his voice. she just nods, staring at the steps beneath her feet.

at the table, the kids are all exchanging glances, talking to each other without needing to say anything. andy can feel someone staring at her and catches both will and max making somewhat pitiful expressions in her direction. it makes her uneasy.

“well, nancy and jonathan were the ones who really got the word out about the lab,” dustin starts, “so i'm gonna guess you know about that?”

andy nods.

“everything else is really… strange,” lucas adds, “like, unbelievably weirder.”

max raises her eyebrows and nods, the  _oh yeah_ doesn't even need to be added, while mike turns to nancy and gives her a pointed look. “she doesn’t know about _you know who_ , does she?”

nancy gives him a perplexed look before her brother is putting up both of his index fingers and realization immediately dawns on her. “oh no, not yet.”

steve is also wildly confused and pokes dustin in the shoulder. “who?”

silence falls on the room for a second as dustin turns to steve, questioning blue eyes meeting confused brown ones, and dustin’s eyes grow wide all of a sudden as he smacks his palms down on the table, hard.

“oh my god, steve _still_ doesn’t know who el is!” and the party members just look at each other with similar oh shit-type expressions, mumbling to each other and peering at mike, expecting him to answer. andy is suddenly very intrigued but nancy drags her back upstairs before she can hear too much, if anything.

+

january starts to come to a close but it’s still cold as hell in hawkins. icicles hang dangerously sharp off of gutters and naked tree branches while patches of ice are causing slips and falls all around town. on top of that, andy is still getting icy stares from carol in the locker room and billy in the hallways.

he’d cornered her behind the cafeteria one day after lunch, hands caging her in as she’d been forced to lean against a damp brick wall. he was crowding in close, up in her face smelling like cigarettes and musky cologne. all he had bitten out was that his history grade had gone back up and he was out of the hot seat, and also that she needed to stop being pissed off because no one even cared if she had or hadn’t put out anymore.

“i don’t care that people don’t care anymore,” she’d bitten out, knee pressed firmly into the front of his jeans, “i care that people were even spreading that bullshit in the first place.”

she then moved her knee back and shoved passed him to go to her period as a language tutor, but he still called after her as she speed-walked off toward the library.

“it’s not like they were all wrong!” he’d shouted, but andy ignored him the best she could and scurried off to help some idiotic freshmen write english papers. she thinks about the whole time she’s tutoring, too wrapped up in it to berate this obnoxious fourteen year old football player trying to look down her blouse.

and after school, andy waits for steve by his locker, hoping she could catch a ride home or even have him stay to help her with some math she hadn’t caught the notes for, only to have yet another encounter with her favorite person while waiting.

“aw, is harrington the new flavor of the week?” billy asks, walking up all cocky with his hands in his jacket pockets and a toothpick pinched between his teeth.

andy has dealt with bigger pains in the ass in her short lifetime but _damn_ did he push her buttons quicker than most of them.

“literally fuck off, hargrove, i’m not in the mood,” andy grumbles, not even looking at him and praying steve would hurry the hell up.

“ooh, someone’s still in a mood,” and he places a hand on his chest, feigning a pout, “jesus, are you on the rag or something? you’re one hell of a wet blanket.”

andy really wants to hit him, like _really_ hit him. he’s got at least six inches on her, maybe seven; he's not quite as tall as steve is. but-- he’s also a little more muscular and could probably scoop her up with just one arm if he wanted to.

“what is your goddamn problem,” she presses, turning toward him and taking him a bit by surprise, “you’re always pushing and pushing and all it does is piss people off! does it make you feel good about yourself, hm, being an asshole? being big man on campus?” 

and billy doesn’t like this one bit, she knows it and she’s gripping the leather of his collar tightly and pulling him down to her level just a bit, just to make sure he was listening.

“god, you piss me off,” he grits out in her face, “you just keep pretending like you didn’t do anything wrong and that it’s my fault people are calling you a slut, when we _both_ know exactly what you did.”

then andy slaps him even harder than she’d done the first time and is immediately off, leaving him standing there in front of steve’s locker stunned she’d actually put her hands on him the second time.

she’ll walk home today, thanks, and will struggle through her math homework if she has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos/con-crit/comments appreciated as always! i've made it super far through what i think is going to become chapter five, but winter term also starts for me on the 8th (and i'm part of a zine right now!) and i'm trying to get ahead just in case this term is super crazy.


	4. payphones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got a little too wrapped up in this chapter, so it's a little longer than the first three. the rest of them from this point forward are going to be longer, just because i want to cover more ground. 
> 
> i'm also starting school tomorrow (it's still the 7th here on the west coast) and i am... not pleased about going back but i'm also too adamant about leaving myself time to be creative and work on side projects this term - such as this fic and the first zine i've been admitted to - to not update regularly.
> 
> lastly - have some Angst and hope you enjoy!

january slips into february and it’s just as damn cold, but now there are garlands of paper hearts and painted messages of love covering every shop window in town. andy’s aunt, mel, has been leaving recipe clippings from _good housekeeping_ , _better homes_ and _sunset_ on the kitchen counter for her, either a hint or by pure coincidence.

they’re all recipes for cookies, cakes, pastries, many of them themed to fit in with valentine’s day.

“it’s only february second, this is _ridiculous_ ,” andy groans, carding through the clippings on the countertop, now knowing it’s a hint so aunt mel can bring sweets to the salon. “distract me, please. are you and jonathan doing anything this year?”

nancy shrugs. she eyes a recipe card advertising how to create the perfect royal icing. “probably nothing too big, y’know? we might go to the movies or go have dinner somewhere, dress up a little bit.”

andy doesn’t look at her, just keeps looking through the recipes. “what about when you were with steve?”

nancy goes a little red in the face and andy immediately feels bad for asking, but she was just curious. nancy doesn't really talk about her relationship with steve despite the fact they’d gone out for quite awhile - by high school standards at least. nancy does eventually answer, a little bashful if anything.

“when i was with steve, uh, he took me to this nice restaurant and bought me roses.”

andy offers a sappy little smile, softly poking nancy’s shoulder. “ok, that’s cute. but i bet whatever you and jonathan do will be cute, too! he’s probably got something creative planned.”

nancy shrugs like she doesn’t care, but andy _knows_ nancy does, a lot.

it’s never a big show with her and jonathan. they weren’t making out at lunch everyday or fumbling to get to second base every time they were alone, getting into lovers’ spats in the hallway for everyone to see. they did their homework together, shared milkshakes at the diner, took long drives when neither of them could sleep, held hands like they were shy about it. small town love.

plus, they killed monsters side by side, saved each others’ asses a few times, and andy thought that was the really romantic part.

“well what about you then?” nancy prods, smirking, “do you have any plans?”

andy wrinkles her nose. she’d never even been on a real date and valentine’s day was for taking bubble baths, eating cookie dough out of the mixing bowl and buying herself a small bundle of white roses on sale at the flower shop, only to hang, dry and press them later on.

she just snorts. “i wish, fat chance.”

nancy takes the clippings from andy’s hands, as now she’s started to crease and fold them absentmindedly. “maybe you and steve should hang out? he’s probably just going to be eating pizza, getting stoned and watching monster movies by himself.”

“people already think i slept with billy hargrove. if i hang out with steve one-on-one on valentine’s day, what conclusion are they going to come to?” andy mumbles. she shoves the magazine clippings away and ducks in the fridge to pour herself and nancy some cranberry juice.

nancy balks at her incredulously. “i thought _you_ didn’t care that people were saying things anymore! besides that, the hot topic going around is that _a certain someone_ who you really don’t like has been actively entertaining vicki lately.”

“well i don’t care!” andy presses back adamantly, passes nancy her drink a little forcefully, “i just hate having to hear about myself secondhand. not only that, but why the hell do i get shamed and not him? he’s the one who’s supposedly been with all these people.”

nancy takes one sip of her glass and frowns. not because it’s too tart, but because andy’s right. she hates reflecting on it but she thinks back to when steve was a dick to jonathan, then ultimately to her because he thought she was seeing jonathan behind his back. he immediately had gotten pissed off and advertised his suspicions on the movie theatre showings board, calling nancy a slut instead of asking her what was going on, instantly assuming the worst just because she was hanging out with another guy. apparently back then, there was an insinuation that she'd have to warn him about male friends when he could have several female friends.

now, not so much. 

“didn’t you know? that’s how it works around here.” her tone is heavy with sarcasm and andy has to laugh. they both roll their eyes knowingly and andy goes to putz around the kitchen and make them something to eat while nancy’s spacing out, reflecting.

she briefly thinks about the before - how steve’s niceness was directed to everyone in little favors, like giving tommy his applesauce or giving carol his lunch because tommy was a dick and ruined her’s, giving jonathan the new camera and stating it was from nancy. he told nancy he wanted to wait around after graduation so he could watch out for her. he’d even join her at the holland’s house for dinner because he loved her and felt guilty, deep down, about what happened to barb.

now the generosity came even more easily and earnestly, playing babysitter slash friend slash big brother to a bunch of middle schoolers, giving them rides and hanging out with them in his spare time. he’d even been gifted a walkie-talkie, the same gift max had secretly received from lucas, during christmas. it was a symbol of deep trust, of knowing that they could lean on him and if need be, he could lean back.

steve’s had been gifted by dustin, who he just pulled into a shoulder hug and reminded him that he could just call, but knew it wasn’t the point. nancy had watched fondly from the sofa, sitting in the same corner of the sofa as she had the previous year, now with jonathan at her side.

she smiles to herself as andy lets out a cheerful battle cry at having found leftover turkey breast in the deli drawer, perfect for pressed sandwiches.

+

“are you asking me out on a date?”

andy punches steve in the shoulder and he winces dramatically, rubs the spot. “i am not asking you out on a date, _steven,_ i am asking if you don’t want to sit by yourself on valentine’s day and do something fun instead.”

andy actually took nancy's valentine's day proposal into consideration and now she's regretting it just a bit.

“well that depends on the fun in question,” steve teases, “what were you thinking?”

“maybe get some drinks, smoke a little, watch some movies? pizza and ice cream on me?” andy tries, twisting her hands in her sweater pockets nervously. she knows they’re friends but it’s still excessively nerve wracking. steve was still hawkins royalty, albeit being ex-high school royalty. there’s one piece of yarn coming loose on the inside of her pocket and she can’t stop fiddling with it.

“sounds...intriguing,” steve starts, “but what kind of movies?”

“we have to stick to the valentine’s day tradition of romantic ones, ok, don’t give me that look, hear me out. i have _sixteen candles, splash_ and _footloose_ to cover the romantic front, but i also have _gremlins, a nightmare on elm street, karate kid_ , and _dune._ are you game?”

steve purses his lips together, throwing an arm around andy’s shoulder while he wistfully looks off in the distance. he does have a secret appreciation for _footloose_. andy scowls at him and tries to shrug his arm off, but steve holds fast before he finally answers.

“ok, fine, _but_ i am bringing the drinks because it’s valentine’s day and i’m _not_ shotgunning an old style on valentine’s day. that and my folks have some good shit hidden that they think i won’t be able to find.”

andy beams up at him and pats his shoulder. “ok, ok, deal. but you better dress up, got it? humor me.”

steve rolls his eyes playfully but nods nonetheless and gives andy a little shove before she’s on her way to class, flipping him the bird and laughing.

the whole day andy’s in a very good mood. first, she and nancy got an ‘a’ on the response paper they had to do on a piece of classic literature. they’d picked _pride and prejudice_ , simply because they’d both read it beforehand and didn’t want to dig through the reading list and end up with one of novels no one wanted. second, steve’s coming over for a friend’s type valentine’s day, where they’d both be drunk on something like white zinfandels while watching movies, dressed in sunday's best. lastly, at lunch, jonathan had new pictures to show and bashfully spread them out on the table. they were taken at her house when she’d had them all over after winter break, all colorful and bright, caught at just the perfect moments.

andy fell in love with one photo in particular, one she’d completely forgotten he’d snapped. she was leaning on nancy’s shoulder in a fit of laughter, and nancy was gripping her knee as she was half-keeled over laughing. steve was almost out of frame, looking very dramatic at the right end of the picture, holding his hot chocolate firmly and leaning away from them with a very theatrical pout on his face.

“you can have it, if you want,” jonathan urged, “andy, seriously, if you really like it, you can have it.”

and she reached across the table and squeezed his hand with the biggest grin on her face.

+

it isn’t until after school that the mood shifts. she has plans to walk home and make some of the recipes that are sitting in a messy pile on the kitchen counter, needing to decide if she wants to make the heart-shaped thumbprint cookies now or closer to valentine’s day in a little over a week. that, or she's considering being ambitious and wants to bake boulangerie-tier red velvet cupcakes cut into variously sized hearts and covered in handmade chocolate confectioneries instead. it'll be difficult but she wants a challenge.

back in chicago, she had time to spare and baking was a casual hobby born out of boredom that morphed into a passion, right after discovering her love for watercolors while digging through her mom’s old things from college.

it’s then that she spots the camaro pulling up and the engine purrs as it crawls up the curb right in front of her. andy rolls her eyes and tries to go around, but the car scoots up and she jumps back, shooting billy a death glare. the passenger side window rolls down.

“get in the car, wilcox, we’re going for a drive.”

“screw off billy, i’m walking home today,” she bites out, and attempts to cross in front of him again.

he mimics his previous action by urging the car forward a foot, blocking her path, and then billy leans toward the passenger side, one hand on the wheel. “i said get in the car, _andrea._ ”

andy physically reacts to that, nearly jumping back two feet. he’s glaring at her with the same intensity she’d just sent in his direction, and there’s about fifteen seconds of silence before andy begrudgingly yanks the door open and falls into the seat. the backseat is surprisingly empty, no max in sight.

“where’s max,” andy says, voice flat and not really asking. the car suddenly roars off out of the parking lot and she clenches up.

“staying late to help her geek squad work on some science project, what’s it matter to you?” he asks, not even looking in her direction.

 _i was hoping she could save me in this situation but it looks like i’m out of fucking luck and stuck with you._ andy just shrugs instead and a beat passes before she speaks again.

“so where are you taking me, _william_?”

billy clenches his jaw at the use of his full name. serves him right, though.

“i already told you - a drive.”

he’s still got one hand on the steering wheel and is drumming his fingers against the seat divider for a second before blasting metallica over the tape deck. andy frowns and slides down in her seat as billy makes a sharp turn and speeds off down one of the more abandoned roads towards his neighborhood. it’s quiet between them, other than the engine vibrating the seats and the overwhelming music. a few minutes pass without either of them even acknowledging the other. andy picks at loose strands on her sweater and the hole in the knee of her jeans while billy just stares ahead, tapping his fingers to the drum beat.

she's still sitting low in her seat, scowling like a petulant child when billy finally turns the music down a bit. he starts off with a deep, exhausted sigh.

“look, i just wanted to talk, christ.”

she’s on him in half a second. “are you going to apologize to me?”

he pauses for a second, wrinkles his nose. “what?” he looks genuinely confused.

andy chews on her lip, biting down the retaliation trying to snake its way out. “for what happened at school. uh, people laughed, you laughed, i slapped you, remember?” and she’s talking with her hands, apparently looking a bit wild because he smirks.

“i didn’t say anything to anyone,” billy says, tone persistent, then he’s digging around in the pocket of his leather jacket for a cigarette and his zippo, “people were just saying stupid shit.”

andy actually grumbles like an old man and billy stares at her, even more weirded out. “well _someone_ caught wind of _something_ and they weren’t just pulling things out of their ass, and _i_ didn’t say anything to anyone, so.” she shrugs, eyeing him pointedly.

billy turns back to her for half a second, expression suddenly bored now as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. “yeah, well, i didn’t say anything to anyone either.”

“yeah, but you also didn’t _deny_ anything when people kept asking if something happened.”

andy watches as his jaw suddenly sets and tightens again, and he’s grinding his teeth while his cig hangs out the window, pinched loosely between two fingers. “why does this matter to you so damn much? just tell people to fuck off and focus on something else.”

“it _matters_ because it’s not true, asswipe, and i don’t want people thinking i did something i didn’t.”

billy scowls at her, again, now a look she’s seen on his face more times than she’s seen his tongue sticking out of his mouth. it’s shocking.

“so why do you care so much about what people think?” he questions, looking ahead.

“i should be asking you the same thing.”

andy knows if she keeps egging him on it’ll start a fight. at this point, though, she’s itching for one - tired of the back and forth, the teasing. she’s testing his temper, can see it in the extra long inhale he takes from his cigarette and the white-knuckled grip he has on the steering wheel.

instead of rising his voice, he sighs, deep and low in his chest. they turn the corner quickly and coast through a neighborhood andy walked through once or twice during while visiting during christmas, years back. it’s usually the block with the most lights and lawn decorations.

“look, i’m... y’know, that people were spreading shit but drop it, honestly. it doesn’t matter.”

andy wants to yell at him but he’s _trying_ to apologize. he looks like he’s physically in pain and she’s waiting for actual ‘sorry’ to slip out, but it doesn’t. he leans forward to toss the cig out the window and she gets a good view into his shirt, spotting a splotchy purple bruise blooming right under his left pec. she suddenly forgets about wanting a proper apology and focuses intently on the partially covered bruise.

“jesus, did you get into a fight,” she breathes out, bending forward to try and get a better look, “what happened?”

billy hastily yanks his shirt over the mark and this is also the first time she’s seen him try to cover up. “nothing. an accident.”

“no, that is not _nothing_ , it looks like you got decked in the ribs.” andy pokes at his chest gently, trying to move his shirt out of the way.

“i said it was nothing, leave it alone,” he growls.

“jesus christ, _fine,_ i’ll let up. _maybe_ you need to chill out.” andy makes a raspberry noise, putting one converse-clad foot on the dash.

then billy smacks the interior of the driver’s side door with his fist and makes this awful angry noise. she jumps a bit, almost kneeing herself in the nose in the process before she’s gaping a him, mouth falling open and brown eyes wide.

“yeah and _maybe_ you wouldn’t have been so quick to get your knees if you knew people were going to talk about you,” he explodes, “ _maybe_ you just can’t handle the fact that people know you’re a slut!”

they’re suddenly pulled up a stop sign, billy braking hard and they’re glowering at each other, fire in their eyes before he’s speeding off again out of the neighborhood. angry tears threaten to fall and andy’s fiddling with her backpack and undoing the seat belt, can’t fucking believe him and his damn temper and she’s physically quaking with anger and embarrassment. needs to get out.  _now._

“pull the car over,” she hisses, gripping at the seat, “pull the _goddamn_ car over, hargrove, or i swear to god i will jump out!”

and he does - comes to a screeching halt. she can barely get out of the car fast enough, tripping on the curb, slamming the door shut and glowering at him for a second. she walks a few feet before turning around, pausing as the car remains parked for a second and she can see him press his forehead into the steering wheel. she almost feels bad but the overwhelming, burning feeling of being called a slut takes over.

“you have a whole goddamn bunch of fucking problems, billy!” is all she can shout before the car accelerates and is out of her sight in a handful of seconds.

andy drops her backpack and puts her hands on her hips, digging her nails into the rough, thick fabric of her jeans. loose curls fall around her face as the wind picks up and then she’s sobbing, standing there on a sidewalk outside a neighborhood much too far away from her house while an onslaught of tears run down her reddened cheeks. she hadn’t realized how far he’d actually driven until just now. she feels like a stupid little kid that tried to run away from home, suddenly lost and feeling too big for her britches.

andy pulls her headphones out of her backpack and fumbles with a tape, pushing play with shaking fingers before she starts off in the direction they’d come, still crying a bit, getting to a mini-mart at a gas station within five minutes of walking and she uses the grimy payphone outside to call the wheelers’ residence. mike picks up - out of breath, probably just having got home - after a few rings and when she asks, he tells her nancy isn’t home yet, maybe try to call the byers’ instead.

she does just that, hands still quivering as she tugs her phonebook out and taps jonathan’s number in. two rings sound out and then will picks up. andy attempts to keep her voice level as she asks if nancy is there or not, and will’s tone is apprehensive as she asks.

“no, she’s not here, sorry,” will says quietly, “but jonathan is, if you want.”

andy pauses momentarily. “sure, yeah, thanks.”

she hears will call out for his brother, then the shuffling and some whispering as the phone is handed over.

“hello?” jonathan asks, “andy, what’s up?”

she can tell he wants to say _what’s wrong?_ instead but stopped himself last second. she’s thankful he did.

“hey uh, do you know where nancy is?” andy rubs her wet nose with the thick sleeve of her sweater, dark red and suddenly much too warm.

“she’s staying late today, stuck helping with something. her mom’s picking her up around four. but uh, maybe i can help, if you need something?”

andy contemplates for a moment, leaning up against the payphone and almost resting her hand in some old chewing gum stuck to the top. “could you pick me up, possibly? i’m at the mini-mart on elm.” her voice sounds gritty and unused.

jonathan agrees without complaint, tells her to hang tight for fifteen minutes. she sits on the curb listening to hall and oates on the walkman, buys herself a bottle of gatorade, that red fruit punch flavor, and a small bag of doritos while she’s waiting. the doritos make her feel a little sick after chugging gatorade; maybe cheetos would’ve been the better option.

andy’s still listening to her music, half tuned-out when jonathan sits down next to her on the pavement. his car is parked a few feet away and she hadn’t even seen him pull up. she cried again about two minutes before he’d gotten there and her eyes are still wet and a little puffy.

“what’re you doing all the way out here?” he asks, folding his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees, watching her carefully. she doesn’t answer right away and passes him the half-full bag of chips. jonathan takes one but doesn’t stop looking at her, expecting a response that she doesn’t want to give.

“billy hargrove drove me,” andy eventually sniffles, “he wanted to talk and i thought i was going to get an apology.”

“i’m going to figure you got the opposite of that.”

she attempts a short laugh but it sounds more like a splutter than anything else.

“i shouldn’t have even expected it, he’s probably never apologized to anyone in his life,” andy grumbles, “plus he got into a fight or something and the second i pointed out this bruise he had, he yelled at me and i got out of the car. like, there’s something wrong with him, jonathan, really, _really_ wrong with him. i think he tried to apologize and couldn’t even say sorry.”

jonathan frowns a bit and looks at the asphalt. he crushes an old cigarette under one foot and tentatively places a hand on andy’s arm, urging her to look at him, and when she does he’s smiling a bit. when he's like this, she can definitely tell he's a big brother, a good big brother that's used to bandaging scrapes and giving hugs after bad days at school.

“look, i’m not saying that you should keep trying to interact with him, especially since i don’t think he’s going to apologize anytime soon and it’s just going to keep pissing you off,” he starts, “he’s a dick, ok, but even if there is actually something up with him, pushing isn’t going to help. give him some breathing room, maybe.”

he stands up, stretches for a second, then extends a hand down. that small smile is still there.

“i’ll drive you home, okay? and call nancy later, she’s much better at this advice thing than i am.”

andy nods and gets up with a gentle tug of jonathan’s hand. he opens the door for her before going round to the driver’s side and then they’re headed out, andy leaning against the cold window with her fingers tapping against the inside of the door while jonathan plays depeche mode softly.

she’ll call nancy tonight.

+

steve gets a call from nancy late at night, jolting him out of his half-awake state on the living room sofa. his parents are out for the evening, out at some fancy dinner thing with one of his dad’s business partners. they’re in and out so much at this point that he doesn’t even listen for where they’re going anymore. the tv is on in the background, playing some off-handed game show.

“hello?” he says, rubbing his eyes and shaking out the numb arm he’d been laying on.

“hey, it’s me,” nancy says quietly, “i’m not supposed to be on the phone this late so i’ll make this quick.”

steve nods before he realizes nancy can’t actually see him and mumbles out a ‘yeah, yeah’.

“jonathan had to pick up andy from the gas station on elm because billy hargrove drove her out there, and she just called me and told me what happened.”

steve grumbles. “no offense nance, but couldn’t this have waited til tomorrow?” he rubs his temples and leans against the wall next to the phone, “not that i don’t appreciate, y’know, being in the loop and all.”

“oh my god shut up, listen to me,” nancy whispers harshly, “he yelled at her and called her a slut and she’s really upset about it, so you better be really gentlemanly on valentine’s day, ok?”

steve feels a little hot in the cheeks and stutters. “nance, we’re, we’re just -”

“i know what’s going on!” nancy says, suddenly loud, “dammit, my mom totally heard that. just, y’know, buy her some flowers or something. she’s having a rough time right now - yes mom, i know - see you tomorrow, and don’t buy her ‘oh i’m fine’ shit for a second.”

the other end of the line goes dead and steve stands there shifting for a second with the phone still in one hand. he places it back onto its base and leans back against the wall with a groan.despite clinging to normalcy desperately, he’d take on packs of demodogs and more restless nights full of bloody nightmares and panic attacks any day over dealing with petty high school bullshit again.

so, steve drives andy to school the next day and she’d been adamant about being fine, everything being perfectly fine, but he’s taken nancy’s words into consideration. everyone knows ‘perfectly fine’ actually means ‘absolutely not oh-fucking-kay’ and steve’s heard it too many times since that first night at the byers’ house in ‘83 to even consider the possibility that ‘fine’ actually means ‘fine’ anymore.

nancy had kissed him and told him she was _fine_ throughout their whole relationship, up until the very end when she made sure he was very aware that everything was not what she’d been saying it was. it was bullshit, bullshit, _bullshit._

he gets through the first few hours of school the way he usually does - paying attention when necessary, scribbling down notes in his chicken scratch, talking when he’s not supposed to be and getting called on every now and then. lunch goes through fine and nancy demands to look over his rough draft for english before next class and edit all his mistakes, lets andy puts some notes down too.

then he gets to p.e. and he thinks the day is going to continue normally, but it doesn’t.

in the midst of the locker room chattering, aerosol cans and slamming locker doors, one of the guys on the team, dennis lawson, talks about his younger sister’s cat going missing. he found it that morning before school, in the little thicket of woods behind their house. steve could have been less interested until he heard that dennis found the cat dead, completely bloodied and chewed up, torn apart like a wild animal had gotten ahold of it.

“it was fuckin’ nasty,” the guy says to no one in particular, throwing his shirt on, “looks like a mountain lion or something big got to it. pops made me bury it this morning and had to tell sarah that it got hit by a car.”

someone else pipes up from the next row and steve immediately identifies mason crowley.

“jesus, man, my cousin’s rabbit got totally slaughtered in its hutch last weekend and there was blood everywhere, like something ripped through the chicken wire and got it. something’s out in the woods and it’s fucking hungry. apparently it’s happened all over town, out in different parts close to the woods.”

steve’s blood runs cold. _out in the woods_ _and it’s fucking hungry._ he leans down to tie his shoes, eyes wide, breath coming out a little faster. he has to find nancy, needs to tell nancy and jonathan and he hasn’t hung out with the kids in a couple of days but figures they know, if what he fears is out there is actually out there. again. steve feels himself freeze once he’s got one shoe done, thinking about the blood and teeth, and leans forward, still breathing raggedly when he hears footsteps nearing.

“aw, someone a little scared about the big bad wolf killing off pussycats and bunny rabbits?” billy teases as rounds the corner, thigh just grazing steve’s as he passes.

steve can’t even retaliate as he’s just trying to get his lungs to stop constricting so hard.

once he’s able to calm himself down a bit, the panic still settled in the back of his head as his sneakers squeak across the polished floor, billy bumps his shoulder as he comes up from behind and looks at steve like it’s his fault for standing too close.

steve prays he’ll able to withstand the usual taunting, pushing and pressing by billy hargrove but there’s fire growing in his chest five minutes in. he stays as far away as he possibly can without abandoning his position. he’s panicking internally, wants to smash his fists into something hard, let his knuckles bleed a bit so he can focus on that instead, or run off and find nancy or jonathan and tell them about pets getting killed off before it’s a person that's getting dragged out into the woods and turned into a pack meal.

during a water break when steve’s sweaty, teetering on the edge of a panic attack and standing by himself a little ways off, billy comes up and toes at steve’s ankle with a sneaker, water and sweat dribbling down his chest. he asks, “you a little weak in the ankles today, harrington?” in a teasing tone and steve’s done.

he throws down his water bottle and billy’s laughing a little bit, biting his lip and stepping back a tad.

steve’s knows he’s not a fighter, not unless he’s protecting people from monsters, but billy’s been riding on his nerves since he decided to stop giving steve the silent treatment. the few weeks of peace he’d gotten after having his face cut up and beat black and blue was welcome, but billy’s been back on him since winter break ended and now the monsters _could be back_ and he’s had fucking enough.

it doesn’t help that now he’s really gone too far with andy and steve doesn’t want to have to hear about her crying to nancy over the phone again.

“god, piss off hargrove, i am not in the fucking mood today,” steve growls, and he’s walking toward billy with his heart pounding in his ears. billy’s just looking at the rest of the team, gearing up for a fight, and he’s still fucking laughing, cackling like a goddamn hyena as steve gets up in his face.

“what’re you gonna do harrington, hm? you gonna hit me?” and then billy’s got his fist clenching the sweat-damp fabric at steve’s collar.

and steve doesn’t hit him, but he grips billy’s wrist as hard as he can, twisting slightly as he wrenches the offending hand off of himself. he catches billy wince as he’s pushin at his arm, gets it pressed to billy’s chest instead, and mutters out, “not today,” as low as his voice will allow, and he shoves billy, hard, backwards, unable to catch himself in time out of shock that steve actually grabbed _back_.

“you’re going to be fucking sorry, harrington!” billy shouts, scrambling to get up as his smile slips away and the team’s just watching them, not knowing whether to let the two of them duke it out or stop it - coach isn't in right now to stop anything. steve’s on him then, holding billy down and he’s about to hit him, fist raised up and body shaking with his knees pinning down billy’s arms.

billy looks terrified for a second, something fearful flashing across his baby blues as he keeps his gaze focused on steve’s face, staring into his eyes. he wanted a fight so damn bad and he's getting it, but he’s not fighting and it’s like he’s waiting for the first hit compliantly, not like last time at all. everyone’s still staring.

steve lets out a breath he doesn’t realize he’s been holding in and lowers his fist. he’s still seated over billy, knees digging uncomfortably in his toned forearms. billy’s panting under him, no longer looking fearful but frozen in place. the air goes still around him and silence falls.

 _nancy._ he'd totally forgotten.

steve leans in dangerously close to billy, one hand pressing on his chest over his necklace. his breath catches in his throat and he gets close, breathes out, “you’re going to be sorry if you keep fucking with me.”

steve stands up slowly, suddenly very dizzy. he steps backwards a little bit before he pauses, still panting and head swimming. the team is staring at him and billy's letting tommy tug him up into a standing position. steve throws out one last threat for good measure.

“and i can promise you, hargrove, i really am gonna hit you next time if you keep being a dick to andy.”

and steve’s jogging out of the gym, running past the locker room to go find jonathan or nancy, whoever he runs into first.

 _they’re back_ , is all steve can think, _they’re fucking back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos/comments/con-crit welcome as always! 
> 
> also: maybe one day i'll reveal myself! i cannot tell you how weird it is now to have such passion for this very self indulgent project - and wanting to signify to people i am working on something! - despite slowly being pulled more and more toward the 'billy is gay and steve is bi' mindset. let's just say, for the sake of my own sanity, that billy's still figuring himself out in this timeline, lol.


	5. got a death wish?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this has come so late!! i've been busy with school alongside zine and commission work - plus i'm broke and am definitely going to need a second job - but the next chapter (or two?) is completely written out and just needs some adjustments.
> 
> btw - the next two or so chapters (including this one) might be a little dialogue heavy, just a heads up!

steve’s running off to find nancy, panting as he sprints down the hallways. his sneakers squeak on the linoleum as he rounds each corner and he has to keep dodging hall monitors and people skipping class, teachers putzing around coming back from smoke breaks.

finally, he gets to nancy’s math class and peers through the small glass window, immediately spotting her in smack dab in the middle of class. first steve tries waving but instead of nancy seeing him, a few girls sitting around her spot him. they tap her shoulder and point at him, giggling a bit as nancy stares at him with blue, wild eyes. he catches her mouth an excuse to the math teacher and grab the bathroom pass, just an old ruler.

“steve, what the hell,” she whispers, “what’s so important you need to pull me out of class?”

steve suddenly can’t catch his breath and uses nancy’s shoulder as support for a second.

“something, in the woods,” he tries, “something  _ killing _ , in the woods.”

nancy looks confused for half a second before that _ oh shit, oh no  _ look crosses her features. she stares at the floor for a beat before she meets his gaze.

“it’s in all the papers, nance, some guys on the team were-”

“shit, ok,  _ shit _ . well, dammit, i can’t just skip class! we need to regroup later, after school, maybe in the parking lot? i’ll grab jonathan and andy and then we’ll get mike and the others?” 

steve nods, heart hammering away in his chest as nancy gives him another wide-eyed, terrified look before she goes back to class. he then realizes it’s maybe best for him to go get changed and if he has to, doesn’t want to fight monsters sweaty and in his gym clothes. he can hide out in the parking lot until gym is over if he has to; if he goes back now he’s  _ really _ going to be in a fight with hargrove.

steve acts quickly -- he sneaks back into the locker room and just gets himself doused enough under the shower spray that the sticky feeling rolls away, then he’s shimmying and half-tripping into his briefs and jeans, getting his pullover stuck around his forehead and swearing loudly when he can’t get his damn nikes tied fast enough. with five minutes left, steve quickly digs around in his p.e. locker for all of his shit - nearly forgets his damn backpack on the bench on his way out and turns on his heel, nearly twisting his ankle in the process - and jogs to the opposite end of campus where his last class is. 

he can barely pay attention. he’s twitchy, tapping his foot erratically and picking incessantly at his fingernails. he pictures blood and dirt underneath them. steve nearly tosses a stack of worksheets into jennifer conrad’s face when she taps him on the shoulder, asking him to give her the stack already because he’s been gripping onto them for thirty seconds without noticing.

the final bell rings -- steve sprints out to the parking lot, nearly getting hit by a little yellow volkswagon bug as he jogs around looking for jonathan’s car. he’s bouncing in place, anxious. every time he blinks he sees it, rusty red and inky black caked under his fingernails while he’s gripping his grimy, bloodied bat, knuckles raw, mud stains on his jeans. he can hear the kids somewhere in the back of his mind, yelling something, but their voices are muffled.

he snaps out of it when two minutes later -  _ finally, dammit _ \- nancy and jonathan jog over with a very perplexed andy in tow.

“jesus, you look  _ awful _ ,” andy cringes. 

steve manages to frown at her for half a beat, fairly aware he’s already white-knuckled and pallid looking, before turning his attention to the other two. 

“we need to round up the party and tell them what’s going on,” nancy says, “well, in case they don’t already know, i have no clue, but someone also needs to call jonathan’s mom and hop. we need to get this under control before something or someone gets hurt.”

“ok, ok, hold on,” andy rushes out, grabbing nancy’s fingertips, “what the hell is going on?”

“you guys stock up at steve’s place, we’ll give you a call when we have the kids,” jonathan says, voice too loud as he’s already jogging to the middle school campus without any warning.

nancy’s immediately hot on his heels, andy’s hand slipping from hers and she’s abandoning her backpack on the dirtied asphalt steve’s feet. andy stares at the backpack before eyeing him nervously, picking at the folded sleeves of her blouse. “you guys were serious about this monster thing, huh?”

“i wish we weren’t,” steve says hoarsely. 

he tosses nancy’s backpack onto the roof of jonathan’s car and rushes andy into the passenger side before he’s pulling out of the parking lot with shaky hands, only half paying attention as he drives them to his neighborhood, to his big empty house.

they wait it out, steve pacing and rubbing his neck aggressively, scratching, while andy just watches him with this pitiful expression. thirty minutes after that, a phone call finally comes in from the byers’ house. nancy and jonathan have the kids rounded up, supposedly having found all of them hiding out in the a.v. room actively discussing the pet murders. max had almost been rounded up by billy and would have missed this fight, but apparently neil and her mom are out of town and she had convinced billy to let her hang out at the byers’ house to do some campaigning.

a good cover up on the spot, and  _ apparently _ he’d had a date and gruffly said he’d come pick her up around nine, not a moment later.

as steve and andy are anxiously awaiting the next step in their plan, steve has the phone pressed tightly to his ear while andy is perched up on the granite kitchen counter with her legs crossed tightly, an apple in hand and watching him still.

“we need to be prepared to fight,” steve immediately notes that it’s mike speaking in the background, “but if something’s slipped passed the gate already, we’re all in deep shit, like really deep shit.”

“ _ language _ , jesus christ, just because we’re having a crisis doesn't mean you get a free pass to swear like a sailor,” nancy scolds, “wait until something happens, at least.” 

“ok,  _ anyway  _ \-- what’s the plan? are we regrouping? splitting up? waiting for the end of the world?” steve asks, slightly annoyed and feeling left out.

jonathan has already called his mother at work, who in turn supposedly gave hopper a call. she can’t leave yet, stuck at the store, but promises them that as soon as she can slip out, she’s meeting hop at the cabin and then they’re going to do rounds, going to track the dogs down on the outskirts of town. nancy supposes they should all hold down the fort at jonathan’s, but then steve hears mike talking about that quiet girl they’re all friends with, who’s out at hop’s cabin, alone. 

they’re all scrambling, trying to confirm plans. hop radios them and gives the ok to stake out at the cabin, meaning they all need to be prepared, ready for a fight. jonathan and nancy take his car, the younger boys having to be precariously stuffed into the backseat. steve nearly shoves andy off the counter once hastily given the directions to hop’s place, telling her to move her ass and she’s grumbling at him, motions to the garage so she can find  _ something _ to fight with.

“are you scared?” she asks, quiet, once they’re in the car. steve just gives a curt nod.

andy’s got an axe in her lap and it looks hardly used. it’s one steve knows his father has doubtedly touched, probably purchased on whim or something a gardener had left behind on accident. steve keeps looking over at her, gripping the steering wheel and feeling his heart in his throat. it’s much, much too soon to be doing this again. he feels ten years older everytime he eyes his bat in the backseat.

the radio is off and the sun’s somewhat shining even though it’s cold and overcast.

he catches andy for half a second at a stop sign, really looks at her for a second, somewhat calm before she’ll be sweaty, disheveled, and a little bloody and bruised if it’s a good, quick fight. her hair is tied half up, half down with the thick dark brown curls sliding past her shoulders, and her eyes are this deep brown but look so bright and almost orange with the makeup she always wears. her blouse is low cut and tan with the sleeves crimped up - like that girl from the breakfast club - and half-covered by a chunky off-white cardigan. 

her jeans, tight and faded blue, must be new while her white chucks are definitely old. her feet are resting on the dash and he wants to swat her shin and tell her to respect the interior, but really he needs the slight distraction of watching her knee bounce jerkily to the a song she must have stuck in her head.

the glint off the many small hoops and studs in her ears are a little blinding but steve welcomes it. he’s fucking terrified.

+

it’s around four by the time steve finally turns down the right road. he sees joyce byers’ dark green pinto parked in what steve assumes is hop’s usual spot, tire tracks carved into the dirt leading onto the main road, and then jonathan’s car a little ways off.

the sun isn’t too low yet -- the sky is a still light blue barely fading into orange and lavender along the horizon line. even with the sun peeking through a bit, it’s still damn cold out. the air is frigid and a little wet, like it could freeze around them.

steve leans in to grab his backpack and bat from the backseat while andy’s already swinging the axe around as she waits outside the big wooden door of the cabin. steve locks the beamer up and leans against the door frame next to her, taps on the window. a few clicks of the locks and jonathan swings the door open.

“hey,” he says breathily, “come in.” 

the cabin is only lit by the sunlight and the ceiling light hanging low over the kitchen table. it’s simple, all worn wood and old furniture, homy in its own regard. the younger kids are all splayed out in a misshapen circle in the small area one would consider the living room, and steve does a mental headcount that they’re all there. dustin, lucas, max, will, mike, and then that girl he barely recognizes -- he assumes this is who he briefly heard about when he sacrificed an afternoon for dnd training. she’s got fluffy short hair and big brown eyes and is dressed in a dark red turtleneck sweater, some beat up blue jeans and a grungy black high tops. she gives steve a questioning look from over mike’s shoulder - it’s a little unsettling, he won’t lie - before she turns her attention to a loose string or something on mike’s jacket.

“so is everyone here?” steve asks, gesturing to everyone currently present in the cabin. there’s nancy sitting at the kitchen table, jonathan leaning against the kitchen countertop, andy glancing around the place still holding the axe, the kids huddled up a few feet up.

“yeah, but i don’t think we’re all prepared,” lucas says, sitting up on his knees, “i mean, we did go down to junkyard and get some weapons there before we got here.”

andy makes a face. “are rocks and old car parts really adequate weapons in a monster fight?”

lucas shoots her a quizzical look. “the car parts are made of metal?” he tries, arms raised in a shrug.

everyone collectively snorts at that, but honestly, a beat-up weapon is better than no weapon. 

“uh. billy thinks i’m going to be will’s house and is coming by at nine,” max pipes up, now leaning on the mystery girl’s shoulder, “and i don’t know what he’s going to do if i’m not there, because i doubt anyone else’s parents know where this place is.”

“yeah, i’d rather not get another plate to the head if he can’t find you,” steve adds, frowning. he catches andy peer at him, quizzitive, from the corner of his eye, but he can tell her that story later. it’d be a wonder she still doesn’t know.

jonathan speaks then - maybe mumbles is the better word, as his voice is low - and he looks awkward as he fiddles with an open drawer. 

“if nothing happens out here, or it’s safe enough to leave, uh, we can go my place. mom and hop already know we’ll go back there eventually.”

max looks unsure but nods in regards to jonathan before she looks to steve. her eyes are scared and steve knows she’s looking at the area of his forehead where he’d had a huge gash a few months back, stitched up with some carefully applied bandaids.

“actually, some of the other kids at school have already had run-ins with the demodog things.”

it was will - steve catches him looking sheepishly at the floor. everyone else turns to him all of sudden, shocked at how sudden the statement was, like he’d been keeping it a secret.

“some kids in my classes have gone out in the dark looking for their pets or to play around and have gotten attacked. like, bitten,” will adds. he turns to jonathan, who’s got his jaw tight and lips pressed into a flat line. nancy speaks next and she’s watching jonathan carefully, looks like she wants to comfort him. steve crosses his arms over his chest tightly and looks away when she speaks.

“we’re definitely going to need to be more prepared then.”

thus, they formulate a plan, everyone crowded in on the living room furniture, looking over a piece of graph paper andy pulled out of her backpack. it’s covered in pencil smudges and ink stains from previous failed attempts at a blueprint. eyeing a map nancy had found shoved into one of the kitchen drawers, andy quickly scribbles out a rough draft of town, carefully labeling the areas of the attacks, the byers’ house, the cabin, and the busiest parts of town.

“it looks like they’re split up. some of them are getting closer and closer to town,” dustin observes, tracing a finger over the red x-marked spots, “and the rest are out here. last time all of them were on the outskirts, or out in the woods.”

“if mrs. byers and hop can track them in town, we can stop them there, but it looks like the other attacks are going east, which’ll take them out here. if they follow the road, though, they could end up anywhere,” mike points out, gesturing to road on the old map that leads out of hawkins to the next town over.

steve isn’t fantastic at this specific type of strategic thing but he thinks mike and dustin bring up good points. andy’s tracing out the direction of demodog travel in green marker.

“no one get pissed at me for saying this, but, uh, if there have been this many attacks in this area alone and these things are supposed to be pack animals, we might need more help. more strength.” andy looks unsure as she speaks and steve isn’t sure he likes what she’s insinuating.

“should we get billy?”

everyone collectively groans at that, that exasperated, disbelieving groan that borders on angry. steve actually scowls at andy for a moment before he noticing the kids are muttering to themselves angrily while mystery girl appears to be completely oblivious to what they’re talking about. she notices steve again and peers at him with her big brown owl eyes and he feels frozen when she tilts her head and just squints. she then frowns at him for a beat, like she understands something, and turns back to the other middle schoolers.

“andy, he’s been a dick to you, and frankly a dick in general,” nancy whispers, but it’s loud enough that all of them can hear, and she’s eyeing steve when she says, “no offense, maxine.”

“none taken, believe me,” max replies, unimpressed.

“ok, ok, let’s not forget the fact that he  _ threatened _ lucas!” dustin exclaims then, “and he’s been an asshole to all of us, including our new friend andy here, who despite kindly volunteering her life and safety to help us out, is offering stupid suggestions!”

andy frowns at dustin and grips the axe handle tightly. “it was just a suggestion, dustin, and seeing how dangerous these monster things are supposed to be, wouldn’t you rather have an extra pair of hands helping out?”

“not if they belong to that guy!” dustin shoots back, gawking at steve for help.

steve wants to cave in to dustin’s pleading eyes, shares the same sentiment with the kid, but out of fear that something happens and max is stuck at the cabin when billy shows up to the byers’, he’s leaning more towards andy’s side. he’d rather not show up half an hour late to bring max by, both of them dirtied and covered in monster blood, and then proceed to get into another fight with the guy. steve sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose.

“maybe we can lead the demodogs away from this area of town if we bring bait? we can go into town and get some raw meat, like what dustin and i did with dart, and lead them back into the woods where we can take care of them without attracting too much attention? if they’re killing rabbits and shit, they’re probably looking for food.” 

steve can immediately feel all eyes on him and his cheeks flush quickly, sputters out a, “hey, i can have good ideas, too!” while trying to compose himself.

“yeah, but you also thought the nazis and the germans were the same thing,” lucas says, looking like he’s trying to fight back laughter. the other kids have to turn away from him for a second to collect themselves and now steve wants to  _ leave _ . 

he crosses his arms even tighter around himself and wracks his brain for a snappy comeback. instead, he just pouts a bit and says, “if you’re going to insult my intelligence then i can just leave and you guys won’t have a batter.” 

nancy smirks at him, catches andy doing the same, and she squeezes his shoulder assuredly. 

“you and andy are crazy for thinking this up, but you both make a good point. i mean, i’m in, and if he’s an ass and doesn’t want to help, give ‘im a good whack and we can leave.”

steve smiles fondly at her before they’re both eyeing jonathan, who just shrugs dismissively. they all know that if nancy’s in, he doesn’t really have a choice either way. he picks up his messenger bag and gives a short nod, so nancy jogs off to some opposite corner of the house, looks in a few drawers and on top of a bookshelf.

“it’s in his room,” mystery girl says, like she can read nancy’s mind. nancy goes off into the back room and comes back with hopper’s rifle and a few cases of bullets in tow.

“got it!”

she passes off the ammo to jonathan, who tucks it into this rucksack, then they’re both expectantly looking at steve. he freezes, suddenly unsure of his own plan, and grips the bat, hesitant. in the quiet of the room, the air feeling heavy around them, andy pipes up, leaning against the back of the sofa with the axe still balanced between her fingers.

“well if you guys are going to get billy and lead the monster-things away, what am i supposed to do? i can’t leave a bunch of thirteen year olds alone in the middle of the woods.”

nancy nods, purses her lips a bit and puts a hand on her hip. “stay here with them? you guys should be safe.”

but then andy looks absolutely bewildered, nearly drops the axe. her cheeks are pink. “ _ should be safe? _ what if something happens? and i thought steve was the babysitter!”

jonathan shrugs, already unlocking the door again. “andy, you asked. not only that, but you also don’t have any experience facing off with these... things. if they do come, board up the windows.” 

andy looks absolutely horrified and proceeds to turn to steve for help, pleading him with her eyes. honestly though, someone needs to stay with the kids. he would volunteer and stay behind, but it was his plan and he’d rather take the chance to lead the demodogs away this time. besides, he heard about andy slamming billy hargrove up a locker, and slapping him not only once, but twice. she can hold her own.

“it’ll be fine, ok?” he says, trying to be reassuring, comes closer to rest a hand on her arm, “we won’t be long anyway, if billy’s willing to cooperate. if not, we’ll come right back, i promise. just, hang tight for a little bit.”

steve can tell andy’s still terrified, can see it in her eyes and how her shoulders shake a little bit.

“promise?” she asks quietly, suddenly looking very small and young in the dim light of the cabin and the setting sun.

“i promise. nance? jonathan?” 

both nancy and jonathan nod or mumble out their own assurances, and then steve’s grabbing his backpack, pulling his keys out of his pocket and taking a big breath. he files out behind nancy and jonthan and gives a salute to andy and the party, getting a few good luck cheers from the kids before he shuts the door. it’s cold and misty out and the temperature is probably going to drop a bit more once it gets dark out.

“ready?” he says to no one in particular, but nancy gives his hand a squeeze and smiles up at him while jonathan tentatively claps his shoulder.

as ready as they’ll ever be.

+

inside the cabin, andy is about to lose her mind. there’s only one of her, not even seventeen yet and just barely at nancy’s height, put in charge of six middle schoolers. she’s not steve, ok - had listened to dustin animatedly narrate how steve had protected him, lucas and max at the junkyard; how he’d squared up after getting his face cut up and beat bloody with four kids in tow, running through dark, dank tunnels under town with flower-headed monsters.

“dustin,” she asks suddenly, voice low, “was billy the one who beat steve up?”

the kids look at her questioningly, surprised even, couldn’t fathom the fact that andy didn’t have confirmation over anything involving that fight.

“yeah, he came over looking for max, then threatened lucas, and he kicked the shit out of steve,” dustin mumbles, “like steve put up a decent fight, but billy totally smashed his face in and hit him with a plate.”

“max had to put him down with a sedative they were going to use on will,” mike adds, equally quiet.

max clears her throat, tosses her long red hair over her shoulder. “don’t forget i almost smashed his junk in with steve’s bat.”

andy raises her eyebrows at that and mouths a  _ good job  _ to max, who just beams and lets her cheeks go flush. “maybe i shouldn’t have volunteered his help. no one really told me. i knew steve got his face completely obliterated but i didn’t know from what for sure, people talk so much shit you never really know.”

andy then crosses her arms and taps her foot, paces a bit. she’s trying to formulate exactly how they’re going to get through this if the worst happens. she can feel the eyes on her, expectant and calculating.

“lock the doors,” the quiet girl says, “and like will’s brother said - board the windows. it will be safer.”

andy turns to her, a small smile coming through, “i haven’t met you yet. what’s your name?”

the girl looks into her lap, a little shy. “i’m jane. jim is my new papa.”

“we call her el most of the time,” mike interjects, and jane, or el, nods. the others watch andy carefully.

“ok jane, or el, whichever you prefer,” andy says, coming closer to the kids, feeling slightly more at ease now, “it’s nice to meet you. guys, let’s board up these windows.”

+

working together in pairs, they nail boards over the windows and andy fixes everyone baloney sandwiches, trying to establish some normalcy. she’s washing the dishes when she hears a ruckus out in the woods. it’s only been fifteen minutes since the others left, and if it was starting already, andy didn’t want to risk being unprepared. 

_ keeping the kids safe, that’s the prerogative right now. _

tugging at the belt loops on her jeans, andy walks over to el’s room and peeps through the cracks in the planks boarding up the window.. it’s dark blue out, not completely pitch yet. with the lamp on, she can make out the shapes of mrs. byers’ and jonathan’s cars and can’t see anything she perceives as a monster, not yet. out in the distance, though, there’s chittering and other odd clicking noises echoing through the forest.

“andy!” it’s max, sounding scared.

andy comes rushing back out into the main living area to see that the party members are all huddled up around the small kitchen table, silent and twisting their heads around to better hear, looking a little like frightened squirrels.

“shit,” dustin whispers, gripping onto lucas’ jacket sleeve, “they’re coming.”

will is absolutely petrified, sharing the seat with jane - andy has decided she hasn’t won the right to call her el yet, so jane it is - and clutching onto the remnants of his sandwich in a white-knuckled grip. max has her fingers twisted with lucas’, who’s got his head cocked whilst trying to listen. he’s letting dustin hold onto the cuff of his windbreaker. mike is standing in front of jane and will and he’s gulping down breaths. andy can see jane’s small hand on mike’s arm, like she’s trying to calm him down.

she’s surprisingly the most calm looking.

andy steadies her breathing, feeling like she’s already in panic mode. she rushes out an, “alright alright,” before sighing, scrubbing a hand down her neck, “if they’re this close already, i’m going to go outside and try to keep them away, ok? you guys stay in here, board up the two back windows and stay together, weapons ready.”

andy’s reaching down to get the axe when the kids are all talking over each other, sending her incredulous and terrified glances mixed amongst  _ are you insane?!  _ and  _ whoa whoa whoa  _ and _ do you have a death wish?  _

“right now, it’s my turn to keep you nerds safe, so that’s what i’m going to do! i promised!” andy nearly shouts, feeling a little hysterical. “just listen to me -- keep the door bolted and locked, but don’t board it up. put a chair under the handle. i’m just going to go out and assess how bad it is, and if there’s only two or three, i’ll take care of them. otherwise, we need a safe word so if it’s bad, you guys can let me in, capisce?” 

“how about we make the safe word capisce?” dustin asks, shrugging, and andy looks at him like she’s gonna hit him, but mike elbows him in the arm instead. dustin hisses and glowers at mike, rubbing his arm. andy mangages a smile in mike’s direction.

“ok, fine, whatever, capisce can be safe word. also - let’s say password instead of safe word.”

andy grips the axe, gives it a few practice swings. as ready as she’ll ever be, she sheds her cardigan and drops it on the back of the sofa, would rather not get blood and guts on it, and goes to unlock the door.

she looks over her shoulder for her second, hand resting over the knob and hesitating - the kids are watching her carefully with fear in their eyes. she musters a grin, gives the axe another one-armed swing.

“board up the windows, stay together, do not let anyone or  _ anything _ in unless it’s me with the password, or the others.” 

andy stares at them for a moment, expectant, and the kids nod disjointedly. she salutes them just like steve had and slams the door shut. the locks click immediately - it’s jane, but she’ll learn that later - and then andy shivers, her breath coming out in wispy clouds. now she wishes she had the cardigan, despite the possibility of blood ruining it.

as andy comes off the porch, there’s no clicking and chittering - she can hear the wind in the trees, a few crickets chirping, but nothing else. it’s unsettling and she prays for half a second that they were all over-reacting, that monsters aren’t actually real, maybe this all just some fucked up, drawn out prank that they’ll shame her with come monday to make her want to go back to chicago and forget she even had a dead dad.

“come on you fuckers,” andy mutters, gripping the axe tighter, “put up a damn fight.”

a branch snaps and she spins on her heel, breath hitching, hair getting in her mouth. andy holds her breath for a second, closes her mouth. another snap, then another, and then it sounds like someone’s cracking their knuckles over and over again. something chirps and trills, suddenly much too close.

“oh,  _ shit.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos/comments/con-crit are always welcome! 
> 
> also, i caved and drew andy [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ab16c2148827644d4de84e7503dd83/tumblr_p2mdgtECMA1qkc6qqo1_r2_1280.png)!
> 
> (almost gave myself away? or maybe i did? who knows.)


	6. take a bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of this chapter (and the next) was written before i did anything else for this story, meaning i had to edit a godless amount of pages and fix all these things i'd changed... let's hope i learn from my mistakes here. this chapter alone is about 11k words, just under 1/3 of what i have written right now.
> 
> warnings for this chapter: injuries/wounds/blood. doesn't go into super gory detail but i thought it'd be a good idea to mention it.

nancy doesn’t know how she got here, leaning against the passenger side of steve’s car in front of billy hargrove’s house, holding a grocery bag full of cheap stew meat.  _ date my ass _ , she’d thought, seeing the lights on in the living room at the hargrove residence before they even parked. they decided to swing by first just in case billy was actually out, maybe stick a note to the front door or something if that was the case. 

but the supposed date max thought billy was on was either a lie used as an excuse to prevent him from having to deal with her, or obviously code for something else; they can see billy’s car parked out back.

steve peers at nancy from over the hood of the car and gives her an uncomfortable look, the  _ do i really have to do this?  _ type look, then flicks his gaze to jonathan, who is equally visibly unhappy about the situation they’re in.

“this was your idea, steve,” she says, frowning.

steve huffs and crosses his arms like a petulant child, flicks his hair from his face. “technically this was  _ andy’s _ idea, not mine. i just contributed to it.”

jonathan coughs awkwardly and both of them look at him. “can we just knock on the door and get this over with?” he asks, “we left andy out in the woods with six thirteen year olds and she’s the only one of us with no experience killing monsters from another dimension.”

and yes, jonathan has a point, so nancy points to the front door and raises her eyebrows at steve again, drops the grocery bag into the passenger seat. she’d rather not be covered in cow blood before they get to fight anything.

“fine,” steve groans but he still grabs his bat out of the backseat before he drags his feet to the front door. 

he bangs once, twice, looks at nancy and jonathan helplessly from his spot on the little step. nancy can hear music playing from her spot on the edge of the hargroves’ front lawn, can’t imagine how loud it must be in the house right now. billy is  _ definitely _ home.

she watches as the door swings open and the music is much louder, blaring out a rock band she doesn’t favor much and one she knows jonathan definitely dislikes. billy hargrove is standing there in a white muscle tank and a pair of loose grey sweatpants, barefoot. nancy can make out the cigarette glowing between his lips.

steve backs up when billy comes out of the doorframe, watches him go rigid when billy leans in close with a wicked look on his face. she can’t hear exactly what they’re saying because they’re both muttering in each other’s faces. nancy hates seeing steve like that, even now that they’re not together - his jaw set, clutching his bat, ready to fight but simultaneously terrified.

billy looks down at the bat and then back at steve, then over his shoulder over to her and jonathan. 

“aw, come back for seconds, harrington? and with backup? that’s fucking cute,” billy says, loud enough that they can hear him in the street. nancy can practically feel the bite in his voice.

“i was about to do you a favor,  _ hargrove _ , and offer you a proposition, but if you want a fight we can do that instead.” 

nancy knows steve is glowering at him, watches him get closer and billy step back a bit with a toothy grin plastered to his face, obviously not going to step down. billy is a hungry shark and steve is stranded in the middle of the ocean without a life vest.

instead of grabbing steve by the collar and pushing him off the steps and slamming the door in his face, billy blows out a big cloud of grey smoke in steve’s face and leans back up against the door frame. 

“what kinda proposition?” and he’s barely asking, his voice much too even. 

“ok, well max and the other kids aren’t at the byers’, they’re actually at hopper’s cabin out in-”

billy’s eyes narrow immediately and he interrupts, leans in. “why exactly is my thirteen year old step sister hanging out at the chief of police’s house? if she’s in  _ any _ trouble, harrington, i swear-”

nancy cuts in but doesn’t move from her spot by steve’s car. “she’s not in _ legal  _ trouble but she might be in another type of trouble if we don’t leave soon. either you can come with us and help, or you can stay here by yourself, moping around at home, and risk her getting hurt. your choice, though.”

nancy is proud of that, had taken a note out of andy’s book of making nonchalant threats. jonathan shoots her a minute thumbs-up and they both look at billy expectantly. he stares back long and hard before he takes a final drag from his cigarette and leans inside the doorway to stub it out. 

“you’re not going to drive me out to the middle of the woods and try to get some revenge, are you, harrington?” billy asks, crossing his arms across his chest. there’s a glint in his eye. his curiosity has been piqued, they can see it in the way his hip is cocked just slightly, paying attention now.

nancy can’t quite catch his expression -- he’s standing too far back and there’s a shadow covering his face.

“totally sounds like me, but unlike you, i don’t play dirty,” steve grunts, “are you game or not?”

billy scoffs. “my ass is on the line if she gets a paper cut - just keep your panties on for two seconds. and don’t try anything funny.”

“grab something to fight with while -”

he slams the door in steve’s face, who in turn hesitates on the step for a second before he throws an oblivious look back at nancy and jonathan.

“just give him a second, steve,” nancy says, just as steve’s slowly coming back down the pathway and heading back to the car, “we’ll give him a minute and if he’s not back, then we’ll leave.”

“fine.” steve’s voice is hard and he nearly spits it out, leaning against the hood of the beamer.

he’s balancing the bat between his knees, sort of twirling it on the asphalt impatiently, but he immediately jolts forward when the front door of the hargrove house swings open. billy kicks the door shut and flicks the living room light off, now dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, his brown boots and a denim jacket. he’s still got the muscle tank on, though, and a sledgehammer in hand.

“you driving, pretty boy?” billy asks, twirling his keys around one finger as he cuts across the damp grass, swings the sledgehammer a bit, “or do you want to take a real ride?” 

nancy feels herself grimace as he runs his tongue over his lips, but steve just stares at him, impatient and annoyed.

“ _ i  _ am driving. you, get in the car.”

billy rolls his eyes and starts moseying his way to the backseat when jonathan shoots nancy a wide-eyed look.

“nance, don’t make me sit next to him,” he pleads quietly. 

nancy wants to laugh at him for a moment but she doesn’t blame him, not really. she slips in front of the door just before billy can grab the handle. he’s a little too close for her liking - smells of cigarette smoke and spicy cologne.

“you take shotgun.”

“why, so you and the freak over there can swap some spit?” billy snorts, but slides in and nearly sits on the few packages of steak meat perched on the seat, “the hell?”

nancy gets into the backseat and grabs the grocery bag but doesn’t offer an explanation, just drops it to the floor and waits for steve to get in and actually start the car. steve slips in with a frown still etched into his features and he shoots billy a look of complete contempt before he finally shuts, no,  _ slams _ the driver’s side door shut. he’s about to put his key into the ignition when a muffled buzz sounds off. it’s crackling and startles all of them, then keeps breaking up, too close and far away at the same time.

“dude, it’s in your bag,” billy says flatly, gesturing to jonathan’s bag on the floor between him and nancy.

jonathan digs around in his satchel for a moment when he plucks a walkie talkie out - specifically will’s walkie talkie. he probably slipped it when no one was looking, just as a precaution. “what?” he asks, clicking the button with a little force, “didn’t catch that, guys.”

“jonathan, nancy, steve,” it’s mike, sounding out of breath, “they’re here, in the woods, andy’s trying to fight them off. i don’t know how many there are but  _ oh my god- _ ”

nancy’s chest feels is about to cave in at that and she grapples for the walkie, her fingers fumbling. “mike, we’re heading back right now, and we have some unexpected backup. we’ll be there as soon as we can, just hang tight, ok?” 

**“** ok, ok but  _ hurry up, please _ , over and out!”

“roger that.” 

she would usually feel foolish for using their lingo but it feels right. it’s hard to swallow all of a sudden, thinking about andy and the kids alone in the woods without backup, andy actually working to fight the demodogs off.

“what the hell is going on?” billy asks, looks at steve with his brow furrowed.

steve revs the engine, doesn’t even look at billy as he speeds off out of the neighborhood.

“long fuckin’ story.”

+

huddled up waiting for the others to come back, all the party members can hear is the clicking and chittering of the demodogs as they run around the house. andy is cursing and taunting at them, can hear her grunting and laughing a little maniacally as the axe comes in contact with bone and blood. a shout echoes out, followed by the awful screeching thing the monsters make, then the wet squelching of cut flesh and hard crunching of splintered bone.

they want to believe she’s doing well, out there all on her own, but they want to disobey and run out there to help at the same time. they don’t have a gun or a bat, let alone a firestarter to at least scare the things off. preparing, max runs to the kitchen to find something to fight with. will digs around and stumbles upon a flashlight and the others go to their weapons of choice, all tucked away in their backpacks.

but then, amidst the rustling and quiet whistling of the axe cutting through the still air, there’s one terrifying scream that echoes out. it definitely hadn’t come from the demodogs and all of the kids are frozen with fear for half a second. andy’s swearing and screaming, but then they hear her voice starting to dissipate. mike just nods to eleven jerkily, trying to urge her to let them out. let them  _ help.  _ she was the one who’d set the locks and got the chair wedged under the knob.    


“el, c’mon, she could get killed out there, do something!” he pleads, and el just bites her lip, hesitates for a moment and closes her eyes, then the chair keeping the door bolted shut flies across the room and lands back at the breakfast table, rocking a bit. the locks all click and the door flings open and they’re all sprinting outside. 

there are monsters running back into the inky blackness of the woods, going around the corner of the house, chirping and hissing, too close for comfort.

“do we split up? stay together?” lucas asks, panic in his eyes as he’s nearly bouncing in place, then dustin’s running off to the side yard by himself and they’re all just staring in the direction he’d run towards for a second. he turns the corner and disappears into the darkness,  _ idiot _ . a beat passes and they can hear something far off on the main road, then some more terrifying yipping and skittering. 

“oh my god, oh my god,” and dustin’s yelling from around the corner, “guys, quick! hurry!” 

they all sprint to meet him, will’s hand shaking as he holds the heavy flashlight up and tries to shine some light on the gruesome scene waiting. max is gripping lucas’ shoulder and she’s the first one to speak, whispering out a horrified, “oh  _ jesus.” _

there’s andy, attempting to sit up in the dirt and sticks. it looks like she’d been dragged and there’s blood all over her hands, black monster blood. it’s all over her pants and spattered a bit on the blouse she’s sporting. then they see the tears, big gashes in her jeans, and her blood trickling out and staining the denim. dustin’s kneeling by her torn up leg -- her right one.

“they heard the door fling open and ran, i think they’re regrouping and going to the main road,” she grits out, “i’m sorry i made you guys hide in there,  _ shit _ , just, stay together and go to the front of the house, just be ready.”

they’re all hesitating, terrified. the collective heavy skittering in the woods is impossibly near and the kids just stare at her, pleading for guidance, because no one’s gotten hurt  _ this _ bad by the demodogs before and lived.

“go!” andy shouts, trying to sit up more, and the kids run off to the front of the house. 

this proves to be a bad idea, as there’s suddenly a good handful of demodogs circling in front of the house. they’re big ones, at that, baring teeth in their big round mouths. one of them has blood on its maw.

the party is ready, though, has to be - will with the flashlight, lucas with his slingshot, max holding a big skillet she stole from the kitchen, dustin gripping an old big crowbar he’d gotten from the junkyard, mike uneasily wielding this big chunk of bent metal, probably an old car part also from the junkyard, and el with her fists clenched.

“get ready!” mike shouts, and a beat passes before they charge, el flinging one of the beasts to the side to hit a tree but it’s still alive, growling. mike hits it multiple times, crying out each time, but it’s still screeching and clawing at him, then it catches his arm and cuts his sweater sleeve, just grazing the skin. he hisses and swears at it. el’s glaring in his direction and the thing contorts in awful ways right in front of mike’s eyes, cracking and snapping and crying out, before it stops moving and drops dead. 

lucas nails another with some good sized rocks and max gathers up all her strength and courage to charge at it, letting out wild noises as she smacks it and lucas cheers her on as she’s hitting it. 

dustin’s standing in front of will, who’s never really been on this side of the situation before, facing off against the monsters. he’s got his crowbar and he’s swinging it like steve does with the bat - he’s taken notes, ok - and whacks one good and hard. will cheers, flashlight ready, and nails one of the smaller ones in the chest as it comes from the side. he screams in terror as he does so, but immediately looks at dustin for reassurance as he gets it good enough to stumble back a few feet.

they think they’re doing good, some scratches and knicks here and there, but it’s suddenly hit them that there might be too many, or that they might be not equipped with the proper weapons, but they’re still giving it their all, chests heaving and hoots, hollers let out by all them.

andy’s finally pulled herself to the edge of the porch, still hidden in the darkness for the most part, and she’s got the axe in her hands again. she can barely stand, leg wet and burning, but she’s cheering the kids on nonetheless. slowly, she gets herself up on the porch and drags herself across it until she’s sitting against the doorframe.

it continues like that for a couple of minutes, andy watching from the doorway as the kids do their best to fight off the remaining demodogs, but then there’s the sound of a car speeding towards the house, the crunching of the tires echoing through the woods. suddenly they’re being blinded by headlights, an engine roaring and there’s an awful crunching noise and the sound of metal hitting something big and heavy. the headlights flick off and the engine dies.

the kids glance up to see a few demodogs still left, but the biggest one, with the blood on its mouth, is smeared across the front of the dented hood of steve’s beamer, half of it on the hood and the other underneath the tires.

immediately steve jumps out of the driver’s seat, bat already in hand and eyes wild, a second later and nancy’s already got the big rifle already cocked and she’s using the passenger side door as a stand. jonathan slowly creeps out the backseat, jaw set tight, then lastly billy hargrove, who looks absolutely perplexed, terrified even. he’s got a sledgehammer in his hands and he’s completely tensed up, white knuckled.

“what the  _ fuck  _ is that!” he yells, eyeing steve obliviously, “what the  _ fuck  _ did-”

“oh my god, shut up!” steve cuts him off, equally loud, “just be ready to hit something!”

the remaining creatures are hissing, piling in from the woods, chittering to one another, separating the older kids from the younger ones. jonathan motions for the younger teens to get out of the way and they momentarily sprint to the edges of the porch, the monsters just turning to them for a moment before nancy fires off a warning shot and hits one in the shoulder, causing the others to hiss out in pain with it.

“go after my brother and his friends again, i dare you,” she whispers lowly.

the demodogs make this awful screeching noise and the kids cover their ears, leaning into one another. the monsters charge and there’s a few gunshots before they catch steve ducking down, getting one good in the side of the head with his bat and billy’s frozen in place as it lands at his feet, twitching. steve and jonathan are yelling at him to  _ kill it! fucking kill it!  _ and billy gives it a few good swings with the hammer until it’s bloodied and dead.

max stares at her stepbrother and it’s the first time she’s seen him hit or break something and not have this satisfied look on his face at the end. he looks absolutely stunned and he’s breathing hard for a beat. nancy shoots another one three, four times before it’s down and jonathan’s scrambling to get her some more bullets from his backpack, grab a lighter or something. 

he nabs his lighter and a can of hairspray he’d nicked from the bathroom and burns one as it comes charging up to nancy, who’s just been tossed some shells and is busy reloading the shotgun.

soon the kids are cheering, watching older siblings and babysitters, friends, an enemy even, kill off the remaining scouts. they join, too, el trying to be as subtle as possible as she makes the fallen creatures twist and writhe grotesquely to make sure they’re dead. nancy shoots another and mike gives it a good smack with his makeshift weapon. will knocks one in the head but it still charges at him, just for a beat, and then it’s flung out of his way by steve’s bat. 

max gets one, too, with lucas’ help, and she smacks it so hard with the frying pan it flies in billy’s direction, where he also gives it a hearty swing with a grunt. he pitches it into the trunk of a nearby tree and he lets out a triumphant cry before another comes up behind him and nearly bites a chunk out of his shoulder.

by the time they’re all dead, black blood seeping into the dusty ground and a fine mist falling down from the heavens, they’re all splattered with blood and have got some blooming bruises and scrapes. but at least this round of monsters is dead and it’s actually  _ fine  _ for the time being.

nancy drops the rifle on the ground and runs to mike, pulls him into a hug and looks over at el who’s at his side, squeezes her shoulder gently, laughing breathlessly. jonathan’s sprinting over and doing the same to will, smoothing a hand over his hair and checking him for blood but will’s just holding jonathan’s wrist, chuckling, because he’s fine,  _ we’re fine _ .

steve immediately gets attacked by dustin, who’s over the moon that steve’s here and hugging him around the middle. lucas is quick to be at steve’s side, too, thanking him for showing up and giving him a one-armed side hug. max is there as lucas pulls away and she just puts her hand on steve’s shoulder, still breathing hard, and she laughs dryly because  _ holy shit  _ that was even more terrifying than last time.

it’s el that comes up to steve next, her nose bleeding, and she puts her hand on his, says, “thank you!” with a small smile before she’s back at mike’s side over by nancy, four feet away.

steve looks absolutely bewildered and he definitely is, too, because he still has  _ no clue  _ who this little girl is and where she came from, just knows she’s got a bloody nose and no one seems bothered by it. he looks at dustin for a moment, gesturing to el and still looking confused. dustin takes a second to reply, just now realizing steve has  _ still  _ not been introduced to eleven formally, not in person at least.

he says, “that’s uh,  _ that’s _ jane. but we call her el. long story short, she’s helped make the demodogs and all the upside down shit stop the last two times. plus, she’s hopper’s kid now and she’s a total badass.” 

and steve nods, feeling just slightly more filled in now, and throws an arm around dustin’s shoulders, pulling him close for a second because now he’s always on his toes because of this damn kid and his nerdy, troublemaking, monster fighting friends.

billy’s still standing close to the car, definitely uncomfortable watching everyone be fond with one another. he pulls out and lights a cigarette but he’s still got the sledgehammer nearby. he pokes one of the dead demodogs with his boot and steps over it as he walks toward max, who’s retying lucas’ camo headband for him and wiping some monster blood from his brow. lucas gives him a little glare as he approaches but then the kid goes off to the others.

“what’re you doing here?” max asks, and she looks angry but her tone is more questioning or perplexed than anything.

“i don’t really have a damn clue,” billy says, crossing his arms and taking a drag, “harrington, the wheeler chick and byers come to our place, tell me you’re out here, then apparently i need to be ready to kill some shit before i get to bring you back home. then boom, i’m here.”

“and you  _ actually _ came with them,” max affirms, “why?”

billy side eyes his step sister for a second. “because you’re out here in the woods,  _ alone _ , with a bunch of nerds who can’t defend themselves. if you even get a bruise for walking into a countertop, my ass is grass. i didnt have much of a choice, max.”

max frowns, looks the ground for a second. she shovels some dirt and leaves with her foot before looking back up at billy. “well at least you weren’t a dick and actually came out here to help.”

she mutters it and billy stares at max for a beat before he lets out a small chuckle. it definitely freaks her out a bit. it’s not a conniving or a mocking laugh; it sounds halfway genuine and it’s a little disturbing. max is about to join the others again and before billy pipes up.

“did you know about this kinda thing, before? is that why you were at the zombie kid’s house that one night?”

max gives billy a look like he’s absolutely stupid. “i think you know the answer to that. and now that you know about  _ all this _ , you’re stuck with it, with us, so try to be nicer. someone could’ve died. and remember that steve has a bat with nails in it and mike’s sister has a gun if you decide to be a dick.”

billy looks a little dumbfounded and watches max catch up with the others, keeps distance between them and himself as he leans more towards the darkness while the others are illuminated by the orange glow of the porch light. he lets out a puff of smoke.

nancy looks at him and gives him an affirming nod, then she turns around and her stomach twists in realization. “guys, uh, where’s andy?” she asks, spinning on her heel a bit.

the kids all collectively share their own versions of the  _ oh shit  _ look and eye hopper’s porch where they thought she was still hiding, but there’s only some blood staining the wood steps. no sign of andy, who’d dragged herself inside before the others came back.

immediately, they’re all calling for her, unaware that’d she’d pulled herself out of the fight, and nancy’s going behind the house and into the woods a bit, panic growing as everyone’s met only with silence. it’s a good minute before they actually hear her calling out from her spot in the house. the group quickly files inside hopper’s cabin and there’s some dregs of blood on the porch, red and black, and andy sitting next to the front door inside, breathing heavily and looking very pale.

“hi,” she coughs, and nancy’s nearly falling over as she wipes mud and blood from andy’s face, and her voice is quiet as she looks at this deep gash in andy’s hand and flinches as fresh blood pours from it, just as andy tells her it’s fine,  _ it’s just a scratch _ and then  _ oh, nevermind _ . 

“why’re you so beat up?” jonathan asks worriedly, and he bends down to andy’s level, also looks the cut in her hand and grimaces at it, puts a hand on her shoulder.

“i did something stupid,” andy says, looking at her lap, “you guys told me to keep the kids safe, so i made them stay locked up in the house and i was going to fight off anything that came at us.”

“you locked the kids inside and stood out on the porch,  _ alone,  _ trying to protect them?” nancy asks slowly, and she’s got her hands on andy’s arms without even realizing it, “why the hell weren’t you with them inside?”

andy shrugs, wincing as she does so. “i just wanted them to be safe. seemed like a good idea at the time.”

there’s a beat of silence and the kids are ready to defend andy, but then nancy’s jaw is set tight and she squeezes the other brunette’s arms, hard. tears start forming as she digs her fingers in a little. 

“you fucking moron, you could’ve gotten yourself killed! you could’ve died and then they wouldn’t have anyone to look out for them until we got back! what the hell is the matter with you!”

jonathan reaches for nancy’s arm but she’s still speaking through gritted teeth, tears threatening to run down her cheeks at this point. she’s fuming and andy can’t meet her eye.

steve crouches down then, just having come inside to make sure nothing else was coming after  them. he gets an eyeful of andy and steps back a bit, then asks nancy about what happened in a low tone like no one else can hear him. like they’re not even there. 

nancy is just so  _ angry  _ now because andy was impulsive, she thought she could fight off the monsters by herself and almost got killed because of it. 

steve lets the information roll around in his head for a moment but he doesn’t say anything, just looks at her leg, winces momentarily and mutters something about them all needing to go somewhere safe where they could get cleaned up. jonathan offers his place because there’s room, it’s far away, and at this point it’s always the place they retreat to.

it’s home base.

jonathan’s then pulling a fuming, teary nancy away, out of the cabin to his car with mike, will and el silently trailing after them. jonathan, in passing, gives steve his mother’s car keys, tells him that they need to take it back just in case. steve nods but he still looks sullen and the kids offer andy looks of pity, wanting to say they’re sorry and that it’s ok, but nancy’s snapping at them to hurry up and they’re out the door seconds later, piling into the car.

“hargrove,” steve says suddenly, and billy, who’s still out on the porch, flicks his cigarette off onto an old ashtray full of half-burnt cigs. he just barely regards steve but still catches the keys to the beamer when they’re tossed to him. “take the kids back to the byers’ house. and don’t fuck up my car.”

billy snorts, twirls the keys around his fingers. “looks like you already did that yourself hitting that thing, but alright,  _ capitan _ .”

he make a jerking motion with his head and then max, lucas and dustin are following him somberly to steve’s car, and steve hears something about dustin insisting that he ride shotgun to make sure billy doesn’t screw with anything. he smirks momentarily, bets billy just rolls his eyes at that and hears him tell the kids to get in or else they can walk to the byers’.

then it’s just steve and andy left in the cabin. the only light comes from a lamp in the living room and the one from the kitchen area, giving them a bit of a yellow glow. the car engines rev up outside. andy’s still staring at her lap when steve gives her his hand and she stands up heavily. 

“can you walk?” he asks, voice edging on gravelly.

andy gives him a look. she wobbles a bit, attempts to make it look like she’s better off than she is and nods, adds, “with help, yeah,” and then steve’s locking the door handle, grabs andy’s bag by the door and flicks off the porch light. he closes the door behind them as he helps andy to the dark green pinto parked a little ways off. 

she slides into the passenger seat with her leg extended, still bleeding, and steve throws himself into the driver’s side, starting the car up without saying a word. they’re then heading back to the main stretch of road, driving through low cut branches that hit the top of the car and rolling over old roots and sticks. once he turns and hits asphalt again, he can still see the lights from his bmw up ahead a little ways off.

it’s quiet at first, andy clutching her leg and steve gripping the steering wheel. he leaves the radio off and just watches looks off into the distance.

“why’d you do that?” he demands, once they’ve been sitting in near silence for about five minutes. andy just glowers at the road rolling out in front of them. her damn hand burns and every piece of gravel that they hit on the road makes her leg hurt throb.

“i thought i was helping, you guys just left me there with six middle schoolers and told me to keep them safe, i had no idea what i was actually up against!”

“you should’ve  _ stayed put _ with them inside the cabin! what the hell, andy!” and steve is yelling, completely losing his patience and he hits the gas a little forcefully, “i wasn’t kidding when i told you there were monsters out here!”

“well pardon me, you didn’t exactly  _ elaborate _ that they’d be hunting in packs or that there were so many! let alone what they really were and that they’d essentially be  _ looking _ for us!” andy shouts back, fists clenched despite the pain.

steve grumbles something, looks to the side mirror and andy’s bleeding, she’s terrified, and now she’s getting yelled at - she’s  _ not _ going to let steve whisper about her on top of everything else.

“you say that to my face steve harrington, you say that to my damn face-” 

steve actually turns to look at her, jaw set hard and brows set into a deep scowl. “i said you were being a fucking idiot! you always act like everything’s ok but you have no idea what you’re doing and now you’re hurt and you could’ve hurt the kids too! you could’ve fucking died out there and those kids would’ve been next because you weren’t  _ thinking. _ ”

andy’s mouth hangs open for a moment but she doesn’t say anything after that and the two ride in static silence, glaring at the road ahead in the pitch black of the outskirts of hawkins up until they get to the byers’ place.

+

when they get to the jonathan’s house, everyone else has just arrived. the lights are flicked on in the front of the house and everyone is crowded in the kitchen. the door is unlocked and steve is still steamed, doesn’t even greet the others as he’s pretty much dragging andy inside and actually  _ drops _ her on the sofa while he makes a beeline down the hallway to dig around for the first aid kit in the bathroom. he comes out a moment later and he doesn’t really look at her, just sits next to her on the couch and tosses the kit on the table.

“let me see your hand, jesus,” steve mutters, and andy gives him her hand reluctantly, not meeting his eyes as he examines at the angry gash running down the center of her palm. without dropping her arm, steve reaches and starts digging through the first aid kid sitting on the coffee table there.

“are you sure you’re qualified to do this right now, you look ready to break my hand,” andy bites out. 

steve momentarily stops his digging to shoot the younger girl a look, really not in the mood for it with his blood boiling, before he locates the gauze, alcohol, some cotton pads, and a half-used tube of wound cream. he’s still pissed and he’s  _ fucking terrified _ but he knows he shouldn’t have yelled at her like he did and knows she’s not mad at him because he’s helping, but because the first thing he did was yell at her. didn’t really check in, didn’t tell her how worried he was. just yelled.

andy hisses loudly as he pours some alcohol over the cut and steve starts to wipe the dried blood and debris away gently with a cotton pad. some of the blood gets on the cuff of his sleeve, and at one point he would’ve been outwardly displeased with that, but not anymore.

he’s seen too much blood in the last year and a half.

it’s quiet as he rubs the wound cream on and he knows it stings, remembers it with a grimace - nancy rubbing some across the gash in his forehead back in november when billy had broken a plate on him, apologizing when she had to rub the cream in but ultimately still giving him a  _ that wasn’t so bad, was it now?  _ at the end.

but now there’s tears pricking in the corners of andy’s eyes even though he’s being as gentle as possible. he wants to say something, apologize. he’s still mad at her impulsiveness and at the fact that now  _ billy hargrove _ was involved because they needed the manpower. couldn’t believe he actually went and picked the guy up.

the tears are dripping down her face in rivers and now steve knows he needs to apologize, but before he can say anything andy’s apologizing to  _ him _ in half-swallowed, garbled sentences. 

“i’m sorry i was so stupid and impulsive,” she sobs, “i know you hate billy and i definitely don’t like him right now, but i just didn’t want anything to happen to the kids, i was just afraid, i was afraid of-”

“andy,” steve interrupts, and it’s so loud it echoes in the living room. everyone in the kitchen goes quiet for a moment, too. steve lets out a breath, trying to steady himself. his throat is constricting like he’s being choked. “it’s fine now, everyone’s safe and we’re all alive.”

he starts to wrap the gauze around her palm as he continues speaking. 

“’m sorry we left you behind with the rugrats. i know they can hold their own pretty damn well, especially with that one girl, but still, leaving you with them by yourself was…stupid.” guilt settles deep in his belly and he puts his hand over her bandaged one, “and you got hurt because we didn’t think ahead, didn’t tell you what you needed to know.”

steve’s gotten used to apologizing in the last year. even when nancy had broke up with him at that halloween party, he’d bought her flowers and tried to talk himself into saying sorry, even though she’d been the one that’d really hurt him, that time.

andy wipes her eyes with the back of her uninjured hand, dregs of mascara painting black circles under her eyes. “i shouldn’t have made them hide. i should’ve known i wouldn’t have been able fight them off myself. i just didn’t want to risk them getting hurt, and in the end it would’ve probably been safer for me to stay with them or have them fight with me.”

she manages a soft, sad smile, cheeks flushed red from crying and smudges of mud and black demodog blood on her jeans. then there’s the growing stain of blood from getting bitten, too, and steve realizes it was stupid of them to not at least compress her leg before they got in the car.

at least now, in the safety of the byers’ house, everyone is safe. the kids are holed up in the crowded kitchen, sitting on the counter tops and at the small table there while nancy and jonathan are cleaning out scrapes and bandaging cuts, cleaning mud off of their jackets with wet rags. usually the party would protest being babied, especially since they’re  _ technically _ teenagers, but after this last attack they’re even more shaken up than they’d been in the tunnels back in november, mainly due to seeing someone get hurt. it reminds them of bob, a few months back, how he’d let himself be sacrificed for them all of them.

after they all pass inspection, they file out into the living room to see if andy was ok. 

nancy is still angry that andy had been so impulsive, thinking she was stronger than she was and sending the kids into the house and not letting them come out to fight, to help. she’s also angry that they’d all left her behind, not thinking that the monsters would split up in the woods and seek out the kids. on top of everything else, though, she’s a little pissed that billy hargrove is standing in her boyfriend’s kitchen looking a little spooked and with a splash of black monster blood sprayed across his cheek, splotchy bruises and cuts lacing his knuckles from when he’d hit a few of the beasts.

she can’t believe he’s here, can’t believe he actually helped - but now they’re stuck with him because he  _ knows _ now, knows enough.

if the rest of them had been there, even just one of them, andy wouldn’t have been getting bandaged up on the byers’ sofa. if they’d actually told her more about the monsters, clarified that the word choice wasn’t an exaggeration, she wouldn’t be there bleeding. it was even worse considering the fact that andy had been surprisingly understanding about the whole thing anyway, maybe should’ve taken it to heart just a bit more and been more cautious. still - it’s admirable how she’d just gone with it, shrugged and said  _ alright. _

billy’s still sitting on the far counter, insisting he had to be the one to make sure max was ok. he lets her join the others last, zipping her jacket all the way up to her neck and pulling her hair out her collar before sending her off with a grunt. she mutters an offhanded thanks and scurries off to lucas’ side. 

while the kids have left for the living room, expectant and scared, nancy is still standing warily next to jonathan. she’d wiped away her tears angrily in the car but there’s still red tracks on her cheeks. not wanting to see the damage yet, she holds his hand tightly in her own while they stand in the doorway just outside. billy isn’t going to make any attempts to ask questions now, or even slink by to try and feign how fucking terrified he is in order to comfort a girl who stills hates his guts. he just listens from the far corner of the kitchen.

there’s a sharp collective gasp a moment later and nancy’s pulling jonathan into the living room with billy suddenly at their heels.

dustin’s standing closest to steve, his hand gripping the older boy’s arm while will leans against him, and mike right there to will’s right holding el’s hand, max pressed against el’s shoulder as she grips the cuff of lucas’ sleeve. they’re all sharing horrified stares.

andy’s got her pant leg rolled up as high as the dirtied denim will allow and  _ jesus  _ it’s bad.

“well shit, no wonder it hurts so bad,” andy tries to joke, but the look of pain on her face just makes it worse.

carved into her leg are jagged gashes in the crescent shapes of teeth and claw marks. the blood is already partially tacky where her jeans had been ripped away but fresh blood pools around some of the deeper slashes, particularly around the ring of teeth marking where she’d been dragged. steve is just staring at her leg in disbelief before flashing a worried glance to all the other older kids. it easily reads  _ what the fuck do we do now? _

they can’t go to the hospital, hadn’t before when someone got hurt, but none of them have had injuries this serious either, none that anyone has actually  _ lived  _ after an attack _.  _ andy’s leg is definitely going to scar up pretty bad, they all know that for sure, and there’s also no way she will be able to put weight on it for awhile. what are they going to tell her aunt and uncle? the closest thing it looks like, by at least steve’s standards, is a crocodile or shark got a hold of her leg, but they’re in indiana where neither animal runs rampant.

“we’re going to need to clean that out,” nancy says suddenly, “otherwise you could get really sick from an infection.” she grips jonathan’s hand tighter.

andy’s nod looks more like she’s jerking around. “yeah, ’m  _ not _ going to bleed out all over jonathan’s couch, but i need someone to carry me or something to a sink or a bathtub. i can barely stand up.”

steve tries to lift her up, getting her into a hunched-over standing position before the weight on her leg becomes too much and she swears, loudly, clutching steve’s forearm to stop from falling over. nancy is frozen in place, too afraid to help, and jonathan’s afraid that if he lets her go she’ll fall over too.

“let me help,” billy says suddenly, gruffly, and it feels too loud. steve raises his eyebrows - sees max do the same - but knows he can’t physically get andy in his arms bridal style right now without hurting her. 

“you sure?” steve asks, gently, not to cause an argument. the two of them are still walking on eggshells around each other, despite just killing some demodogs together. just that afternoon he was in billy’s face, pinning his arms down and twisting his wrist,  _ threatening him  _ like a crazy person while he teetered on the edge of a panic attack.

right now, steve is focusing on his tone, trying not to sound doubtful or sorry, let alone distrustful or judgemental. he doesn’t know the guy well but he knows that when billy starts to feel undermined and he gets angry,  _ fast. _

billy gives a curt nod, striding past nancy and jonathan quickly to the sofa. nancy’s nails bite into jonathan’s palm as she watches steve and billy attempt to pick up andy. they’re muttering and she can’t hear them too clearly, feels jonathan’s arm come around her waist and squeeze. he’s scared, too, thinking about the awful pained screams will had let out when they’d been forced to sweat the mind flayer out of him just months ago, and how he’s going to have to hear them come from someone else he knows, cares about even.

nancy does smile though, just a bit and feels jonathan’s grip loosen too, when they spot the look of contempt that andy shoots at billy as she reluctantly lets him pick her up. her arms slip around his neck but her mouth remains pressed into a tight pink line. billy just refuses to look at her.

“where’s the bathroom?” he asks flatly, holding her up with ease. andy’s chewed-up leg is resting over his forearm and blood is already starting to trickle onto his arm - everyone can see it.

“right across the hallway,” jonathan says hurriedly. he lets go of nancy’s hand, quickly unhooking their fingers before he starts after jonathan and steve, muttering something about getting towels. 

nancy’s suddenly the only one in the living room besides the younger kids, and when she turns to regard them, they’re all staring at her expectantly. there’s a mix of fear and curiosity in all of their eyes. the only sound is the shower head turning on in the bathroom.

all of the kids are still huddled together, nearly all of them standing shoulder to shoulder, touching in some way. 

“it’s going to hurt,” el whispers, clutching mike’s arm, “going to hurt a lot.” 

mike nods silently and looks at his sister. his brown eyes are pleading and nancy suddenly feels too young, too small. she’s only seventeen, still a junior in high school for a handful of months. sometimes she’ll sneakily purchase tiger beat at the grocery store, cares a little too much about what eye shadow she should be wearing some days and avidly watches  _ scooby doo _ reruns and drinks hot chocolate with mike at two a.m. when neither of them can sleep.

“you guys, stay out here, ok? one of you needs to call mrs. byers and hop and tell them what happened. after that, stay put, get something to eat. don’t worry about andy, we got her.” 

nancy’s voice was steady as she possibly make it, giving the party a nod before grabbing the first aid kit and jogging off to the bathroom to check on andy. she can already hear will at the phone, the rest of them muttering collectively about  _ what are we going to do now? _ behind him.

nancy closes the bathroom door behind her and it’s much too crowded with all five of them in there. they’ve got some warm water just filling up the very bottom of the tub and worn out, dark towels piled on the floor. jonathan’s leaning against the sink, hands gripping the counter behind him, and nancy scoots in next to him with the the first aid kit still in hand. 

standing next to the tub, steve kicks off his shoes and socks, rolls up his jeans and shirt sleeves before stepping into the water and leaning against the back wall. he’s biting his lip in concentration and his hands are shaking just a bit. steve’s trying to stave the panic off but knows he’s failing. he’s the oldest one there without mrs. byers and the chief and he’s trying to be brave, attempting to keep himself together.

right now he feels even younger than the kids out in the living room and he’s fucking  _ terrified _ .

“alright, maybe just keep andy sitting up on the edge and i’ll try to rinse this out,” he says shakily. he knows he’s doing a shitty job because he can hear the quiver in his voice much too evidently now. billy doesn’t say anything, trying to maintain how much he wants to ask  _ what the ever-loving shit is going here _ as he slides andy out of his arms against the edge of the bathtub.

even he can’t deny how nasty this injury is.

steve helps her shuck her sneakers and socks off, tries to roll the pant leg up as high as it’ll go.

“i think you need to get the pants off, andy,” nancy whispers, almost silent to her own ears, “there’s blood going all the way up your leg.”

andy just sighs, pain evident in her face and blooming in red, hives-like splotches up her neck and cheeks. she nods.

usually it’d be awkward, the five of them, all huddled up in jonathan’s bathroom while one of the two girls is getting ready to take off her pants in front of all of them, but they’re all terrified the bite’s hit something dangerous and andy’s just slowly been bleeding out this whole time. 

billy continues to steady her and she surprisingly lets him put his hand low on her back as she balances on one foot in the water, steve helping pull the bloodied denim down. it drags a bit over her one leg and she swears, again, nearly all of them cringing at the sight of it. jonathan takes her pants from steve and holds them awkwardly. 

“should i just throw these away? should we even bother washing them?” he asks nancy lowly and honestly, she has no clue. 

andy, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy even now, pipes up with, “nah i’ll keep them, maybe when we all have kids cut up jeans with blood and shit on them will be in. if not, they’ll be a fun reminder i almost got eaten for being a dumbass.”  

none of them really laugh at that, only offering at least a half-smirk or sad smile, but billy’s snort is probably the loudest. andy doesn’t make a comment about it, returning a weak grin.

nancy leans into jonathan’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of the woods and old hash fumes on his jacket, holding andy’s warm jeans balled up in her hands. she thinks about it for the moment, the whole evening in a haze. 

how it’d just started again, this time with pets going missing and kids getting bitten for wondering too far into the underbrush. how a bunch of thirteen year olds had mapped out any possible places the demodogs could be hiding, where they could possibly strike next, whispered about how the wind flayer could possibly be reaching into their world now. how they’d gotten  _ billy fucking hargrove _ roped into it all to avoid a possible fight later, had urged him to get a weapon and knock some monsters around with steve.

and how andy had told them to go follow the hoard moving toward town, to get billy involved for real now for the sake of manpower before she tried to take on a pack of plant-faced monsters alone and forced the kids inside with all the doors and windows locked and shut until the coast was clear.

nancy is so grateful they’d gotten back just in time, mowing over the biggest dog in steve’s car right before that and wiping the rest out quickly, and she feels sick at the realization that they could’ve shown up at the chief’s place a moment too late and andy would’ve been drawn and quartered, just a bloodied snack while the kids were slowly overpowered and attacked next. a wave of nausea grips her system but she fights it, swallows it down while she attempts to focus on everything around her.

the bathroom light is much too white around them, casting tall grey shadows. her friend is sitting there in her pink lace underwear in her boyfriend’s bathroom, her ex-boyfriend standing ankle deep in warm water about to clean out said friend’s bloody legs with a washcloth and his bare hands, and this guy, just this guy no one really likes that they’ve roped into everything now, is also helping.

nancy wants to come forward to help. hold andy’s hand as steve pours hot water over the cuts on her legs. pet her hair as they do the real painful part - picking any remaining debris out and cleaning everything with rubbing alcohol.

jonathan moves forward a bit and squats down to silently hand steve an old plastic cup sitting under the sink cupboard. he kneels on the floor proper and nancy moves with him in a frightened daze, but she still kisses jonathan’s red knuckles as they come around her shoulder.

“hey,” she says quietly, placing a gentle hand on andy’s arm. andy turns to her, a smile turning into a wince, and she looks so, so drained and pallid. steve pours the hot water over her bloodied leg, his jaw set hard as he does so. the water turns a dirty pink around his ankles after a few passes.

andy twists in billy’s grip as steve starts dabbing the visible gravel and dirt granules out of the lacerations with a soapy washcloth and nancy can’t believe how focused and serious he looks standing in bloody, soapy water while he tediously cleans out the wounds of someone he was pissed off at less than ten minutes ago. he does a few more passes with clean water before sighing.

“ok, i got what i could,” steve says breathlessly, “but now comes the really not-fun part.”

jonathan hands him the mostly-full bottle of rubbing alcohol with a grimace. it’s probably not the safest way to clean such a bad set of injuries, jonathan thinks, but it’d be better to make it a little painful and not risk an infection than do the bare minimum and hope for the best. nancy grabs for andy’s hand quickly while she lets the other slip to jonathan’s again. 

andy looks absolutely terrified as steve hesitates to pour the offending thing over her leg. billy, biting his lip in a way that for once isn’t meant to be charming or taunting, holds a hand out for andy to grab onto. without reluctance she grabs at it, resting back against his torso as steve uncaps it.

he murmurs an apology and andy just toes his knee with her uninjured foot, whispering another  _ thank you _ and then  _ it’s okay _ to him before the cold liquid comes splashing down her leg.

nancy bites her lip hard enough to break the skin at the awful bitten-out gasp that leaves andy’s mouth as it all comes pouring into the cuts. jonathan momentarily turns to the door to make sure none of the younger kids come in, already terrified out of their minds, before redirecting his attention back between nancy and andy. he squeezes her hand.

even billy winces when andy bites her lip, tries to be quieter, concealing the screams to her throat. he’s gripping her hand tighter while steve lets out a litany of  _ sorry _ ’s while he holds onto her heel gentle as can be. he does a few passes with the bottle and andy’s sobbing by the end, holding onto nancy’s hand so tight her knuckles are white. steve does one more passover with more warm water before both him and billy are helping andy stand out of the tub on shaky legs. 

andy’s breathing heavily, her eyes puffy and wet and wiping at her face desperately with the back of her hands. steve rubs at her arm a bit, tries to calm the tears as he whispers more apologies into her ear. billy just keeps his hand low on her back to steady her. jonathan momentarily lets go of nancy’s hand so he can dab andy’s leg dry. 

nancy doesn’t let go of her hand for a second.

when barb had died, it was too sudden. nancy had been left without answers for far too long, and when she’d learned about her best friend’s fate, she was too guilty and angry about her own selfishness to grieve properly. she blamed herself and at times blamed steve out of anger; it wasn’t even really his fault, though, not directly at least.  _ nancy _ was the one that dragged barb out there to steve’s house, to that party full of people she doesn’t even talk to anymore, left her outside as steve kissed her over and over again in his bed, slipped into her slowly and held her hand the whole time. 

even after barb’s funeral, after the hollands knew what they needed to know, the closure hadn’t been there. there was a hole inside her. even now, regardless of how grateful she was, andy wasn’t barb. couldn’t replace her and they both knew that. 

what andy was, though, was that extra voice of reason nancy could listen to in absolute doubt; the one tucking nancy’s hair back into place after she pulled a sweater on; the one fixing her eye makeup before first period started; the one laying in bed across from her at a sleepover, listening to nancy babble about what kind of magical touching jonathan had done the night before; the one who smacked carol in the back of the head with her english textbook and ended up in detention for it, all because she didn’t like the nasty things carol was saying about her.

_ andy  _ was the one rubbing nancy’s back that one night she’d completely broken down and sobbed about barb and the upside down and how awful she’d felt about throwing steve away without a healthy explanation or a real sorry, how he’d looked at her and said, “it’s okay, nancy” and as grateful as she was and as much as she liked jonathan, steve didn’t deserve that.

now, though, nancy made sure to never make andy feel like she was unwelcome or unwanted. she’d let down her walls, stopped deflecting after that first night alone at andy’s house, when andy had talked about her mom and her awful boyfriend back in chicago and her childhood in florida. sure, nancy still pressed a hand over barb’s pictures with a soft, sad smile on her face every morning, but it didn’t make her any less grateful for andy. she wasn’t a replacement, she was something necessary and had a role all her own.

“here, i’ll help with this last part,” nancy says, taking some cream and gauze from the open first aid kit, “um, billy, just make sure she doesn’t fall, please.”

+

joyce and hopper eventually get back to the byers’ house and joyce nearly has a fit when she sees andy’s leg and cut-up hand, sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her waist as a makeshift skirt. maintaining her composure, though, she quickly checks the gauze and passes andy a few painkillers before kissing the top of her head, asking if she’s ok and thanking her for helping out. then joyce eyes the collective knicks and bruises on the others. 

she’s all over the younger ones first, inspecting them for any injuries before she leans up and kisses jonathan’s forehead and pulls nancy in for a hug, offering one to steve who surprisingly accepts it in a heartbeat. the rest of them watch carefully as she just takes billy’s hand and gives it a squeeze, thanking him for helping and he’s rendered speechless for once. all of his cocky charm is gone and he nods once, avoiding direct eye contact.

hopper tells everyone that they hadn’t actually found any out in town, but did find their tracks and evidence of more mutilated pets and forest life out passed people’s backyards, out near the shut-down lab. 

“we’ll keep an eye out for them, but i don’t know where they’re coming from yet. just be careful when you kids are out at night, alright?” the chief says gruffly, raising his eyebrows and making sure everyone’s listening.

soon, after some phone calls are placed to anxious parents, the kids all crowd in will’s room for the night. everyone figures they’d all feel better sleeping close together, ready to spring up and fight in the middle of the night if they have to. together, they’re piling on the limited floor space like puppies in mismatched, borrowed clothes. the boys couldn’t have cared less about borrowing from will and jonathan while el looked absolutely pleased in the oversized, worn-in nightgown joyce had let her borrow, completely reminiscent of her old borrowed pink dress. 

max, on the other hand, had pulled her long grey nightshirt as far down past her knees as she could before she settled into her place on the carpet, shooting a death glare at dustin and lucas when they’d gone into theatrics at the sight of her wearing something with a skirt.

billy and steve offer to go home at first, but steve’s car has blood and guts all over the front of it (and not knowing if his folks are home or not, ultimately doesn’t want to risk having the conversation with them about what he’d hit and how it dented the hood), and billy’s also stuck there because max refuses to leave and his car’s back at their house. thankfully his dad and susan aren’t home, otherwise he’d be getting an earful and a good knock-around in the morning if he came back without max again.

hopper takes jonathan’s bed - eyeing joyce as he volunteers to sleep there and everyone watches them for a moment, exchanging curious looks - after everyone insists he stays behind  _ just in case,  _ while joyce retires to her own room, leaving the teenagers up to their own devices in the living room. she’s left a pile of miscellaneous blankets and pillows out on the floor along with a few random pieces for them to sleep in from both her’s and jonathan’s closets, bidding them a goodnight as she flicks the hallway lights off.

in the sanctuary of the bathroom, nancy slips on a light blue nightgown joyce had probably owned since before jonathan was born, earning a snicker or two from andy as she plays with the itchy lace appliqué on the front of it. she assumes it wasn’t something her boyfriend’s mother had purchased for herself.

she gently scrubs off her makeup with a borrowed washcloth and then helps andy slip on a long striped nightshirt that was probably used as maternity clothing at one point, much too long and baggy in the front. andy, though, just folds and rolls the long sleeves up to her elbows and ties the extra fabric into a knot at the side, muttering, “fashion,” as she hobbles back out to the living room, face freshly washed, gripping nancy’s shoulder.

steve and jonathan are luckily about the same size, jonathan dressed in his usual pajamas while steve bums a tee repping a band he’s probably never heard of before, and a pair of jonathan’s dad’s old sweats he didn’t have the heart to throw out, in too good of a condition to just toss. billy, on the other hand, starts to shrug off his shirt and unzip his jeans in front of everyone and is stopped by the collective groans and angry whispers thrown in his direction.

“fucking pervs, wasn’t going to sleep naked here,” he mutters, still stripping down to his briefs in front of all of them - steve and jonathan more or less rolling their eyes while nancy just frowns into her lap, andy taking a few quick glances at the rippling golden muscles that were billy’s back - before he’s tugging on a pair of older, slightly too-tight track pants jonathan had tossed to him.

it’s weird then, the realization that billy hargrove is standing in the byers’ living room by his own free will, wearing a borrowed pair of old blue track pants and no shirt. they all exchange looks of genuine awkwardness, not knowing where to go from there.

“i’ll give you one thing, hargrove,” andy suddenly yawns out, sitting on the floor against the sofa with her wrapped leg outstretched in front of her, nightshirt pulled high up onto her thighs, “you may be a dick most of the time, but you do have a rockin’ body.” 

nancy sputters at that, shocked and amused. “yeah, you’re not taking anymore painkillers tonight,” she says with a smile, feeling almost completely calm as andy’s casual teasing starts to return.

billy eyes andy carefully, blue eyes bright, and he smirks a little, flexes his arms and steve nearly throws a pillow at him, grits out a pink-cheeked, “ _ stop.” _

andy just giggles and settles into nancy’s shoulder, sighs happily and feeling sated from the drugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is already written and will be up very soon!! i promise we'll be getting some of billy's pov in the next couple of chapters, too.


	7. breathe in, breathe out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i intended to post this earlier but uni and deadlines are kicking my ass!! i also thought i had at least another chapter written out but alas, i did not, but i'm trying to aim for the part to be posted around valentine's day!

the boys pile into the bathroom to clean up while nancy finds something for them to eat, much too tired to fix something proper and settles on grilled cheese, despite the grumbling in her belly. it’s not even that late, maybe eight-thirty. they’re all exhausted, feel beat down and like they’ve been sucker punched. 

she’s fixes everything with jonathan’s help - he’d shyly squeezed in next to her at the stove, bumped their hips together - and andy sits at the table putting out napkins and plastic plates, leg perched on a small step stool as she watches billy carefully. she’s still on drugs, looking much too long at one thing and then getting distracted by some hallucinatory object or speck of dust a moment later. billy’s sitting there next to her, picking at his fingernails and flipping his zippo about while more or less babysitting; andy keeps leaning off the chair a little too far and he has to pull her back by a shirt sleeve before she face-plants on jonathan’s kitchen floor.

all the while, steve’s just trying to get the coffee pot to cooperate. he figures it’d be better to be alert, on their toes for a bit, just in case they need to defend home base from a second attack.

they eat in relative peace, all in their mismatched pajamas and flinching at the sound of the heater starting up, the coffee pot beeping, the kids trying to subtly whisper amongst themselves down the hall. it’s odd, really, the four of them used to eating together, but then billy’s there, stuck between steve and andy, refusing to make eye contact with anyone while he twists a long string of melted cheese around one finger.

after they eat, nancy, jonathan and steve set up the sleeping arrangements, moving the coffee table out of the way and pushing the other chairs to the edges of the living room. the three of them pressure andy to sleep on the couch so she can elevate her leg better. she’s putting up a fight, though.

“yes, and then if i need to stand up i’ll fall on whoever’s sleeping next to the sofa, and then we’ll both have to go to the hospital for real,” she argues, gesturing to the couch wildly while she’s settled into an armchair with a pout, “just let me sleep on the floor! i know we almost just died  _ but this is a sleepover now. _ ”

“i’m telling my mom to throw those painkillers away after this,” jonathan mumbles, peering over at andy with an odd look and crossing his arms, “andy’s high as a fucking kite and she only took half a pill.”

andy points to jonathan and cocks her head to the side, grins, “and it was lovely, thank you. my leg feels like jello.”

both billy and steve try to suppress laughter at that but immediately stop their snorting when nancy shoots them an icy glare, trying to cover up with awkward coughing.

ultimately the group spreads out on the floor with jonathan and nancy closest to the sofa, then steve (honestly still afraid of nudging billy in his sleep on accident and getting a black eye for it) with andy between him and the other boy. blankets and miscellaneous pillows lay strewn out on the floor with extra sheets and pillows acting as padding to their makeshift nest. old quilts and body heat are shared in the cool of the room, everyone within a foot of each other.

settling in, moonlight streams in from the thin curtains covering the far window next to the front door, illuminating the room and dyeing their bodies blue. the only other light on is the stovetop light in the kitchen.

they make small talk, trying to converse with billy about tv shows or movies that have come out recently. he just continues to stonewall them, nods like he’s half listening, up until steve mentions that they’ll be playing his least favorite team during a scrimmage next week. he gripes about them always cheating, knocking ankles and pulling jerseys, making fouls when they think the refs aren’t looking.

“hell, they play a lot like you, hargrove,” steve sniffs, frowns at billy over andy’s shoulder. billy just rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“yeah ok harrington, get your jabs in while you can, but i don’t  _ cheat  _ during games.”

the banter continues like that for awhile, steve interjecting now and then before billy makes some snarky remark towards him and they bicker playfully, no real bite to their tone, threats falling flat. eventually billy asks about the monsters, looking up at the ceiling while he works his bottom lip and pulls the worn knit blanket he’s commandeered further up his chest like it’ll protect him. 

“long fuckin’ story,” steve says, just like he had earlier in the car, and he pulls his own blanket tighter around himself. the air suddenly feels ten degrees colder just at the mention of the demodogs and jonathan actually gets up to check all the windows, fingers twitching.

“they come from another place,” andy tries, obviously still reveling in the fuzzy, blissed out feeling the painkillers provide, “that’s what nancy told me. a place like ours but not - it’s cold and dark and awful things come out of it.”

nancy looks over at jonathan, who’s looking out the window a few feet away, then hesitantly whispers. “it’s where jonathan’s brother disappeared to a little over a year ago when everyone thought he died, and what made him sick a few months ago.”

billy makes a face. he doesn’t say anything at first and it looks like there’s a bad taste in his mouth.

“i’d call bull but those things with the fuckin’ plant heads definitely don’t come from anywhere good,” he says lowly, “unless this is just a thing that happens in indiana.”

jonathan settles back in next to nancy then, but sits up a bit so he’s resting his chin on his knee. he shakes his head and his eyes meet billy’s for a second. “i don’t know about just indiana, but they don’t come from anywhere on this end of earth, i can tell you that.”

“ok, yeah yeah. but does, like, anyone else know about… all this shit? anyone besides everyone here now?”

billy draws a series of circles with his hands, gesturing to the collective space above them. andy moves her head wildly along with billy’s hand motions steve has to stop her with a palm to the forehead.

“it’s just us,” nancy replies as she picks at a hangnail, looks over in his direction without actually looking at him. she doesn’t even know why they’re on the subject anyway - the fewer people know, the better. they don’t even  _ like  _ billy - he’s got far too much compensating and apologizing to do. it was like going to a party and enjoying a beer, shooting the shit with someone who knocked your books out of your hands and poured milk on your lunch tray everyday.

he was just here because he wasn’t going to go home without max, anyway.

she can suddenly feel his eyes on her and she quickly adds, “and there there was this p.i., murray, from illinois. my friend’s parents hired him to investigate her death and in the end he helped jonathan and i get the lab shut down.”

“ _ that’s  _ how that lab got shut down?” billy smirks, “damn wheeler, nice job.”

“ok well one of those monsters killed her and it was  _ my _ fault, i wasn’t going to do nothing. it’s all because they had this portal, this gate open at that lab, so more and more stuff was getting through. there were already windows between that place, mike and the others call it the upside down, and ours... but they intentionally opened a bigger portal and were going in and letting things out for the sake of curiosity.”

jonathan puts his hand on her shoulder as her voice starts raising in pitch, breaking a bit. he sends billy a pointed look and waits until the blond boy is staring back at him before he starts talking for nancy.

“man, people  _ died _ because of that lab. my mom’s boyfriend was murdered by those things while trying to save us from them. and on top of everything else, they were doing really screwed up shit to these kids too, torturing and abusing them, running tests on them. all in the name of ‘curiosity and science’.” 

“shit,” billy says, eyes widening. he looks back up at the ceiling and smoothes some curls away from his face. “that is beyond fucked up.”

jonathan has this  _ yeah, no shit  _ look plastered on his face but at least billy’s listening to him, trying to understand. he peers over again and billy’s sitting up on his elbows a bit while steve talks about the demodogs, is telling billy to thank him for keeping max safe. billy scowls and accuses steve of kidnapping, but the small smile on his face says he’s not actually that mad.

at least he’s trying to understand.

+

it’s just after midnight when andy stirs. she hears a crow flit by the window and the beat of its wings, the noise it makes when it pecks at the glass nearly causes her heart to stop.

as she sits up, she notices her hair has fallen out of the loose bun she’d packed it in. loose, dark brown curls are sticking out in every which direction and she knows she looks like she’s been electrocuted. she sniffs and shakes her head, not that it helps any. her leg stings and it’s like she’s coming out of a fog as she blinks away the last traces of deep sleep. the painkillers have finally worn off and everything fucking hurts.

looking for a distraction, she tries to focus on little things around the room - the fabric of the sofa, the mismatched, embroidered pillows they’re laying on to make up for the cold wood floor they’re spread out across. 

she settles on the others, all snoring quietly and curled up, completely unaware. there’s nancy and jonathan spooning a few feet away, both tucked under this big fluffy, navy comforter. steve’s wedged a foot between himself and the two of them and he’s laying on his side with his head resting on an outstretched arm, turned toward her with his mouth open just a bit, lips wet and soft as he breathes softly into the corner of her pillow.

it’s weird in a way, seeing how nancy and jonathan had just naturally come together as the night pressed on while steve’s stretched out like he was waiting for someone to come to bed, leaving them room but prepared to move close when they settled in. it definitely makes her a bit sad.

billy, though, billy’s snoring a bit with his fingers grasping his pillow even in a deep sleep while he’s positioned laying down on his stomach, leg simultaneously curled and stretched out like he’s trying to spoon something, afraid it’s going to slip away. his face is also turned towards her and his back is exposed while the rest of his body is completely tangled in an old knit throw blanket, dark green against his tan skin.

andy sits up a little more and watches each one of them more closely, observing their breathing patterns and body language because now she’s much too awake. if she tries to get up and turn the television on to try and entertain herself, she’s going to first, fall, and then second, wake everyone up while trying to search for the remote and get the tv on.

instead she leans forward on her good knee, bored. her cut hand had bled through the bandaging a bit but it’s luckily stopped bleeding. there’s some pink staining the bandages on her leg too and  _ now  _ there’s also a nice bruise on her forehead that she keeps ghosting over every time she moves hair out of her face, along with one low on her back, making her tailbone throb. she’s also fucking exhausted, just to add to her own private list of complaints, but knows she’s in too much pain to drift of anytime soon. the noises outside, too, are aiding in keeping her up. 

it makes her feel like a rabbit in a big field, ears pricked up for the sound of nearby predators.

she sighs and looks at steve again, still in the same position and snoring a little. his hair is all over the place but still soft-looking and loaded with whatever expensive collection of products he uses. she moves a piece that’s fallen over his forehead back into place. a river of blue moonlight highlights some of the freckles on his upturned cheek.

“can’t sleep?” he mumbles groggily, just coming out of sleep and not moving.

“jesus,” she swears and takes in a harsh gulp of air. “i thought you were asleep.”

“i felt myself being watched,” he says quietly, a smile creeping up on his face, “and i’m very aware of people touching my hair.”

andy goes pink. it blooms all the way up to her ears. “sorry.”

steve shakes his head the slightest bit, visible just enough with the light on him. he settles onto his back but keeps his eyes closed. “’s fine, felt nice to be honest. if you keep doing it, i’ll probably fall asleep again.”

andy waits a moment, hand raised tentatively, but ultimate starts to card her fingers through steve’s hair again. he hums happily and leans into her hand a bit, much like a greedy housecat. andy wonders briefly if nancy used to do this to him but feels it’s better not to ask, momentarily looks at nancy as if she’ll suddenly shoot up and send her a death glare.

“what happened between you and billy, by the way? for real, not the bullshit everyone at school was saying,” he whispers after a beat. steve keeps his eyes closed but andy can tell he’s waiting for an answer. he’s trying to distract from the incident earlier, feels this pain is less fresh.

“i know it’s kinda personal so if you don’t-”

“no, no, it’s fine,” andy rushes out, pauses her hand, “it was just like, a misunderstanding that went really wrong. i probably shouldn’t even be mad about it anymore, especially because you guys actually got his ass out here to help.”

there’s another beat of silence before andy actually says anything, suddenly too nervous and red in the face but she keeps her hand in steve’s hair, gently brushing it away from his face before she starts. 

“what was everyone saying again? that i’d been putting out while we were studying? that’s not close to what happened at all - we really were just studying together at first, because he was falling behind in ap history due to some random absence and the teacher essentially forced me to help him. so, i invited him over one night when my aunt and uncle weren’t home and we talked about music and shit, let him copy my notes and whatever. we were just reviewing some chapter vocab and i told him he was hot, and he just leaned in real close with this fucking smile on his face, and i kissed him. honestly i don’t even know why i did it. he just seemed so much less intimidating and was being genuinely charming, not all snarky and flirty, and i thought  _ what the hell, isn’t this what people our age do? _ i think we made out for like half an hour, maybe an hour, and then my aunt and uncle came home and he left.” 

steve furrows his brows, eyes suddenly open. “he told everyone that you put out when you guys  _ only _ frenched for half an hour?” 

“oh ho ho young padawan, there’s more to this story than you’d think.” she rubs her hands together gently before continuing. “so this continues for a week, just doing homework together at my place and making out for a little bit. i wasn’t trying to make him into respectable boyfriend material. honestly, we’d just study for awhile and then we’d make out for a little bit, that was it. sometimes we’d just shoot the shit, talk about books and music, whatever. it was nice, i’m not gonna lie, to have a little distraction. and he stayed for dinner one night, then drove me to school the next day to say thanks and  _ everyone _ was on him about ‘what happened, what happened’ but he didn’t say anything-”

“-not until the monday after cheryl’s party.”

“-exactly, yeah, he talked me into going to that stupid party and cheryl bruckner’s, like ‘you can get away with anything, why not sneak out to a rager at the pep squad captain’s house with hawkins’ current keg king?’ so he gets me on the keg stand and i actually  _ fucking hate beer _ but i did it anyway, had some of this nasty fuckin’ punch one of the cheerleaders brought. i got pretty tipsy and was acting like… i dunno, it sounds awful, but i was acting like a slut. we were making out on the stairs and on the kitchen counter and in cheryl’s parents room, i, uh.”

steve’s staring at her when her hand stills but he doesn’t say anything. just continues to look up at her with his big brown eyes. she peers back for a moment before sighing and finishing off the epic saga of her self-proclaimed humiliation.

“i sucked his dick, steve. i got down on my knees and i  _ sucked billy hargrove’s dick _ . i was so tipsy that he basically had to carry me to his car. he brought me a water bottle and told me to sit tight, but i fell asleep in the passenger seat. i think he drove me home an hour later, i don’t really know when we left, but at least i woke up in my own bed with a major hangover and he was gone. then i come to school on monday and tried to talk to him about what happened, like  _ don’t get any ideas man,  _ but everyone was asking if i always put out, and he just made a joke of it, acted like i actually did.”

steve sits up a bit and leans around andy to glare at billy, who’s snoring. suddenly steve looks like he’s feeling much more awake and very irritated. “what the hell, andy.”

“it’s partially my fault too,” she whispers, all rushed out, “don’t know why i thought it was a good idea to do what i did in the first place, let alone at a party. i also didn’t give him a chance to explain at all. i slapped him in front of god and everyone and ran off before he could say a damn thing. then i slapped him  _ again _ instead of doing what he said - tell everyone to drop it and fuck off.” 

steve is sitting up properly now, scowling. “that’s not an excuse, andy. he could’ve stood up for you and he didn’t and that’s on him. it was a shitty thing to do. it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do, it matters that people were making shit up and when he could’ve used his fuckin’, popularity or whatever you wanna call it, to set the record straight, he didn’t.”

andy shrugs and smiles a bit, didn’t think about that in the first place. steve deserves a much better track record for this sort of thing, all of his off-handed, jumbled advice. “ok harrington, you’ve got a point. i mean, he did help today. i dragged myself into all of this and he let himself get dragged into it because of me and he’s been surprisingly… compliant? laid back? i think if something happens to max, his ass is on the line. i don’t think he really gets along with anyone at home.”

steve snorts, rolls his eyes. “not exactly the first person you think of when someone says ‘nice guy’, but that’s just me.”

andy gives a quiet laugh in return. sure, steve’s right - billy jumps down people’s throats and is in their faces over nothing and he’s loud and bouncing off the walls all the time. but there was something there the second she mentioned him going home late one night, something that flashed across his face so fast that she nearly missed it. not annoyance, not anger, but fear, maybe.

“i’m not making excuses for him being an asshole. i mean, max came over with him one time and she said something about her stepdad when billy wasn’t in the room. like billy’s dad is just an asshole to him all the time no matter what he does.”

steve frowns at that, looks back at billy to make sure he’s still asleep. “maybe,” is all he can muster, not wanting to speculate any more tonight. he yawns and settles back down into the blanket nest again. “you can keep, y’know, with my hair, but try to get some sleep if you can.”

he pulls the blanket up and andy can hear his breathing slow within three minutes of her petting his hair before he’s sound asleep again.

andy finally falls asleep a half hour later, her fingers still tangled in steve’s hair.

+

around nine-thirty the next morning, there’s banging around in the kitchen that alerts nearly all the teenagers awake. nancy peels herself away from jonathan and stares in the direction of the kitchen, bleary eyed. jonathan yawns and sits up a bit, eyes still closed, while steve dramatically yawns and stretches out, patting the side where andy…  should be.

“the hell?” billy grumbles, dirty-blond curls a tangled mess as he scrubs a hand down his face, one eye open, “who’s fuckin’ banging around?” 

collectively they all hobble off to the kitchen and low and behold, mrs. byers and hopper are sitting at the table sipping coffee sleepily while the kitchen is full of kids bustling about talking in half-whispers. the kitchen is all warm, the curtains peeled back and the smell of warm butter hanging in the air.

there’s andy, leaning against the far counter by the sink instructing max and eleven at the stove while the boys have surrounded the adjacent countertop and are either sharing mismatched cutting boards or glancing over a big metal mixing bowl.

“andy! why are you up!” nancy exclaims. she’s suddenly very awake and  _ very _ worried about andy falling face-first onto the hard floor. 

but before andy can get a word in, dustin spins around, flicking batter off of a wooden spoon he’s gripping, right onto lucas and will in the process, “we found her a stick.” 

he looks so proud of himself as andy gives this big, curved branch she’s leaning on a little wag. it’s pinned between her in the countertop, just out of sight from the other end of the kitchen. everyone over the age of fourteen is obviously perplexed. lucas wipes the batter off of his face and onto the back of dustin’s shirt while will just frowns and reaches for a towel to clean off with.

steve chuckles. “bud, we’re gonna need a little more… clarification,” and he ruffles dustin’s hair before leaning down to look at what’s cooking, “ooh, pancakes.”

“it’s to say thank you,” andy says suddenly, going a little pink and not looking at anyone in particular as all eyes fall to her, “i know everything’s pretty screwy right now, but i just wanted to say thank you. for helping me even after i was stupid yesterday and for giving me the time of day to start with, not thinking i was crazy. for being there. these guys were just nice enough to help me out this morning.”

andy isn’t superbly keen on letting people in - apologies, sharing feelings, that’s difficult for her. she’ll lean on nancy’s shoulder and tell her how much she loves her all the time, pour over jonathan’s photographs and gush over how much she likes his lighting techniques and how steady his hands are, and now she’ll definitely be warning the younger kids she’ll kick their asses if they get themselves hurt. even now though, the sappy, deep-down feelings are something she always keeps locked away.

crying in front of steve and everyone else the previous night, half out of pain and half out of guilt, was something she’d tried to fight until she’d just completely caved. it was terrifying, pulling the air of her lungs.

“it’s okay.” it’s eleven that speaks first, slow and navigating the right words, “sometimes it’s hard to show that we care.”

she beams up at andy from the stove and looks to max for help, who gives a nod and a sleepy smile, still holding the spatula in her hand. it’s obvious to everyone that they’ve been doing some bonding.

a beat of silence follows, but after a glare from max the younger boys add their own mix of garbled, mumbled thank-you’s and have everyone laughing a bit. joyce and hopper are just half-listening, leaning on their elbows with strangely relaxed smiles as they slowly sip the coffee andy had made and glance over the mess of newspapers and magazines on the dining room table. 

“i forgot teenage boys get embarrassed so easily, sorry,” andy cackles out, nearly falling over as she lets go of her makeshift walking stick. “um but yeah, food’s almost ready, we made a lot and we went to the store earlier. hopper drove us. there’s, uh, some jam and syrup in the fridge, and orange juice! and there’s a few pancakes warming in the oven already.” 

hopper had waved lazily at the mention of his name before staring down into his mug again.

everyone disperses shortly after, jonathan grabbing a mix of silver and plasticware while nancy’s digging plates out of one of the cupboards. steve just shuffles through the cupboards looking for cups, finally spotting some and putting them on the counter, slapping dustin’s hand away from the coffee pot and not caving in to the pouts on the kids’ faces when he pours each of them a cup of orange juice. nancy passes joyce and hopper their plates first and both adults drawl out their thanks to andy and the kids as they start to file out.

billy just leans against the doorway, feeling a bit out of place and spacing when steve suddenly nudges a plate full of buttermilk pancakes and hastily cut fruit to his bare chest, raising his eyebrows before he goes off to the living room with own plateful of food and a cup of coffee.

“thanks,” he mutters, proceeding to himself a cup of coffee, black, before following everyone else into the living room. 

eleven carries andy’s food out for her - surprising most everyone - and lets andy settle on one far end of the sofa before she hands her the plate and goes off to scoot in between mike and lucas with her own breakfast. mike asks if the pancakes are fine with her, all low like he’s worried, but eleven just explains that they’re _ just flat waffles _ and  _ it’s ok, i want to try new things _ .

jonathan comes in next and flicks the television on to saturday morning cartoons. it fills the comfortable silence and busy clattering of cutlery. he then settles in next to nancy on the sofa while steve takes the floor by nancy’s leg, barely resting his shoulder against her while billy sits off a little ways, just at the very edge of the couch.

it’s strange, sitting in the byers house with an odd sense of calm clinging to the air, the mid- morning sun bathing the walls and flooring in pale shades of yellow. everything smells like pancakes and coffee but no one’s complaining, not with the looney tunes on in the background, the younger teens spread out on the floor like they’re five years old and didn’t just survive another monster attack the previous evening.

andy plucks a slice of strawberry off of nancy’s plate after a solid five minutes of spacing out and eating, earning a playful “hey!” from the other girl before nancy steals her last apple slice. andy’s trying to grab another piece from nancy but the older girl is cackling, climbing on jonathan’s lap to try and shield her plate away from andy’s grabby fingers. he’s gripping his own plate and attempting to help with a panicked look before steve’s squeezing onto the couch, trying to level the playing field by trying to get steal a swig from jonathan’s coffee, and then its war. 

the younger kids couldn’t care less, not even bothering to ask the others to be quiet.

once nancy really fights back, going straight for a bite of syrup-soaked pancake and billy’s scrambling to get out of the way before someone’s foot ends up on his plate. as he nearly jumps a foot back, he catches max’s eye and she mouths a very obvious _ be nice _ as she catches him preparing to throw out a nasty comment. she threateningly raises her eyebrows at him, something he’s done to her a thousand times, before she turns back to the road runner cartoon with her orange juice in hand.

billy bites his lip. he has a temporarily battle with his go-to reflex of threatening a fight. he settles on not saying anything and instead reaches over the back of the sofa and bites the banana slice off of andy’s fork, the one she’s nabbed from nancy and it’s sticky, covered in syrup, a little mashed. 

the other four go completely still before andy starts after him with a “why, you-” and everyone is stealing food off of each other’s plates. steve and jonathan have nearly downed each other’s coffees despite the obvious difference in sweetness and milkiness and andy’s holding billy’ wrist while she steals a strawberry piece straight off of his fork while he nearly gets the last half of her pancake. he lets her, cackles and then he’s going for her coffee cup.

it’s all ridiculous, playful - normal. something none of them have had enough lately. 

it’s nice, even if it’s temporary.

+

on monday morning, steve picks andy up for school. she’s not that far from campus and sometimes walks, but with her leg all torn up - her aunt and uncle had a complete fit at that and drove her to go to the hospital the second she was dropped off later on saturday afternoon, all wrapped up in her bloody clothes - and the fact she now has to use crutches, he figures it’s the right thing to do. jonathan had offered at first, but his place is closer to andy’s neighborhood than the byers’ is. 

besides, now he feels a little more at ease when they’re one-on-one now that they share trauma. it’s a bonding experience.

“what did you tell the doctors what happened anyway?” steve asks, and andy’s humming along to naked eyes as it’s playing softly on the radio. 

she stops and shrugs, leans back against the seat. the car is warm and steve’s seats are so comfortable but she’s so grouchy because the bandaging around her leg makes it impossible to wear jeans and she’s in a fucking  _ skirt,  _ in  _ february _ . it’s long and a navy blue color but she feels like she can’t sit any which way without flashing someone or having her skirt get tangled around her shins.

“i said we were out in the woods because we heard animals some running around outside, wanted to see if it was that thing that was getting people’s pets so we could call animal control. but then i  _ supposedly _ tripped out in muddy bank and wandered into a bear trap.”

steve turns to her with a horrified expression. “jesus christ, did that work?”

“yes it did, so let’s not complain too much. i just don’t want to have to tell every single person that wants to know what happened that i’m just a dumbass that fell into a bear trap.” andy grimaces just imagining the day ahead, “plus nancy’s not going to stop offering to carry my books or spoon feed me at this point, because my hand’s still all cut up.”

steve just smirks. nancy was like that when people got hurt. even when billy had beat the shit out of him and she had just gotten together with jonathan, she’d fawned over him for nearly a week afterwards, always asking if he was icing the bruises and being careful with the cuts.

_ billy _ .

“she does that. and y’know, uh, don’t be pissed at me,” steve says, “but you should probably talk to hargrove about what happened, not about this weekend, but y’know, the other thing. he was just as scared as we were the other night so maybe he’s softened up enough to say sorry to you, or at least talk to you about it for real this time.”

andy’s mouth presses into a straight line and she moves to scowl at steve, crossing her arms stiffly in the decorated denim jacket she’s sporting. “i already tried that, steve. he closes up the second i talk about it. the fact that he helped prevent my leg from needing to be amputated probably did nothing in the long run.”

they don’t speak the rest of the way to school, not until they pull up next to jonathan’s car at the south end of the parking lot. nancy and jonathan are still parked, sharing a thermos full of what must be coffee and pouring over homework. before getting out, steve turns to andy properly and puts his hand on her shoulder, something he does with dustin when he’s not paying attention and rambling off about god knows what.

“just, try it? if it doesn’t work out, then we’ll all go out to the diner tonight and fuck around for a few hours, okay?” he pulls a smile so charming even andy crinkles her nose at it and puts her hand on his cheek. 

she knows her face is flushed and she pats his cheek. “okay, okay, casanova. whatever you say. but! you have your own beef to settle with him, still, so i don’t know why i’m taking advice from you in the first place.”

and of course, nancy tries to carry andy’s bag the second she gets out of the car and steve rolls his eyes, sing-songing an _ i told you so!  _ out before he’s leading them into school. he brings up the possibility of the diner and yeah, it sounds great to nancy and jonathan, and andy just agrees out of reluctance because whether or not the conversation with billy goes well or not, let alone happens at all, steve’s just going to baby her and stuff fries in her mouth either way.

by her own luck, the instant that she separates from her newfound pack for first period, she literally runs smack dab into billy, yet again. it’s becoming far too much of a common occurrence and his chest is so soft and so hard at the same time. she rubs her nose dramatically because fucking  _ ow, that hurt _ , but when she realizes it’s him, she sputters for a moment before she pokes a manicured, ring-clad finger into his chest and grits out, “you, me, south bus stop by the football field after third period.”

and she storms off before he can get a word in edgewise, maybe stalking off a little less graceful than she thinks with the crutches and everything, her heart hammering away in her chest.

so, when third period rolls around, andy’s hands are vibrating half out of nervousness and half because the wind keeps picking up and blowing her stupid skirt around. she’s got a joint balanced between her fingers but it’s not lit yet. it probably won’t kill her nervousness at this point she figures she might as well put it back in her bag.

she’s leaning up against this metal handle bar, crutches down on the pavement next to her bag. she’d told him to meet her over here, just passed the football field where the athletic buses line up for away games. the bell just rang and maybe he’s not coming and  _ maybe _ she’s just stupid - but then a “hey,” comes from around the corner and andy nearly drops the joint in her hand, catching it before it hits the ground. 

“christ, jumpy aren’t we?”

andy scowls as billy leans against the bar next to her, a shit-eating grin on his face as she stuffs the joint back into her bag with a swear.

“literally fuck off, if i fell you’d have to take me to the hospital because my leg would bleed out  _ and _ i’d have head trauma.”

billy rolls his eyes and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette. 

“don’t be such a drama queen,” he grumbles, digging around for his lighter in the opposite pocket, “anyway, why am i out here and why exactly are we ‘talking’?” he puts emphasis on the last word and scowls when he can’t find his lighter. probably left it in the car, dammit.

“first off, how did you manage to sneak out of class?” she presses. andy figures she might as well be nice and offer him a light, goes to dig around in her bag for her hidden lighter, stashed in the bottom of her makeup bag.

“told watson i have to bring something to max at the middle school and just left. didn’t come running after me so i figure i’m safe for now,” he shrugs, giving a little grin when andy finally finds her lighter. it’s an orange bic covered in faded stickers with a stripe of faded lipstick smeared on one side.

“c’mere,” andy says, and she knows her shirt is definitely open enough for him to look down it in this position, the way it’s folded open against her arm because she refuses to button up all the way just like a  _ certain someone else _ she knows.

he lets her light him up, stares at this glint of metal hanging against her sternum and asks, “you catholic?” nonchalantly, suddenly. he gestures to the silver chain hanging loosely around her neck, just peaking past the open buttons of her flowered blouse. the cross hanging off of it catches the light just right and glimmers. he takes a long drag, blowing smoke off in the opposite direction.

andy shakes her head and snorts. she takes it in her hand and twists it around her fingers with the chain dragging over the scarlet of her long nails. 

"not in the slightest," she smirks, feeling more at ease all of a sudden, "was my dad's. he wasn't either, but it's a family thing, i think. probably his dad's before that. you?"

she leans forward and he tenses up, nervous, knows despite the crutches and the drugged praises she'd sent his way a few nights ago at the byers', andy could have him on the ground in seconds if she knocked his knee right. she gently takes his necklace in hand, fingers barely touching his exposed chest, and rubs her thumb over the engraving. she looks up at him expectantly but doesn't turn away. 

“nah - was, uh, was my mom’s. she wasn’t super devout, but enough to keep rosaries and stuff like this.”

his cheeks are blooming scarlet and he  _ never  _ talks about his mom, doesn’t know why he did just now. it makes his throat want to close up and his mouth taste like iron and salt.

he then passes the cigarette to her, fumbling a bit in the process and andy takes a drag out of courtesy, coughing a bit as she lets the smoke go into the wind. she hates smoking cigarettes - would rather have a joint than a cig any day. a burst of courage comes then and she slips the cigarette back between his lips gently. billy’s eyebrows shoot up a bit and he just stares, flushes a little more.

of course, andy doesn’t move away but she does focus back at the minuscule mary carved into his pendant, runs her thumb over it again. her cheeks are hot, probably just as flushed; she can feel it - if she doesn’t move back soon he’ll see and he’ll laugh, he’ll leave, say she’s all all big talk and then she’ll be leaning against this stupid rusty pole by herself feeling like a moron.

honestly - she sucked his dick with more confidence than this.

she caves instead and leans against his chest, still burning red, with her hands still holding the pendant always hanging around his neck.

“why did you let people say those things?” she asks and her voice is slightly muted as she speaks into his jacket, “i was still barely friends with nancy and jonathan and  _ steve _ and i thought you were so much better than what people were saying you were. i fucking defended you to them but in the end you didn’t deny anything, you just fucking laughed and -” 

andy drops the pendant from her fingers and clutches onto his arm over his jacket, digging her nails in a bit as heat boils up in her chest. “- i helped you catch up with school when i didn’t have to and i let you drag me to a party full of obnoxious assholes… i  _ defended _ you when i barely knew you, i told you about my dad,  _ my fucking dead dad _ and you still didn’t say  _ anything _ .”

andy knows if she keeps talking she’ll cry out of frustration and she doesn’t want to, not in front of him, not again.

then it’s silent. billy doesn’t do well with tears, usually rolls his eyes and walks away when emotions get too involved, tells people to suck it up. he cries himself, too, behind closed doors and when the clock reads 2 a.m. on a school night. he’ll never admit that, no, not even when his dad’s just got him pinned to the wall outside the kitchen and is threatening his life.

but now he didn’t want andy to cry - not because it made him embarrassed, but because he’d felt like shit ever since she slapped him in the hallway with everyone watching, felt even worse when he’d driven off and left her miles away from her neighborhood because he couldn’t physically say the word ‘sorry’.

she was so fucking angry that day by the lockers and he wanted to play it cool, act like he didn’t care like he always did, let her push him against a locker demanding  _ what the fuck? what the fuck! _ and he’d just smiled all wide and told her, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” with all the confidence in the world.

and yes, she’d slapped him and run off and he’d been pissed, mortified with embarrassment while hoots and hollers sounded off around him. he knew he shouldn’t have said that but he did because playing dirty regardless of how right or wrong he was, was so much better than admitting defeat and losing fairly in his book. it’d been ingrained in him, nearly burned into his skin - not to be a fucking loser even when he deserved a loss.

“‘m sorry,” he mutters, forcing and biting it out, cigarette still hanging from his lips. the word feels foreign in his mouth and hangs in the air for a minute afterwards, neither of them moving and the only sound is a far-off p.e. class on the soccer field and the wind blowing through the naked trees. “i… shouldn’t have said that shit to you. i should’ve said something, especially because tommy’s such a little prick and carol can’t keep her goddamn mouth shut. if i told them to fuck off and leave it all, it would’ve stopped.”

“tell me who said it,” andy bites out suddenly, still leaning against him but now turning away a bit so if she wanted to, she could look up at him, “who said it first.”

billy sighs and takes his cigarette out, drops it and crushes it under his boot on the pavement. “it was carol and tina and vicki, when they saw us at the party, when we, y’know, snuck out of cheryl’s parents’ room. couldn’t keep their fuckin’ mouths shut.”

andy’s so pissed off because she  _ knew  _ it was them; she could kick the damn railing they’re leaning against but decides against it. doesn’t want to break her good foot and be bound to a wheelchair.

“give me another cigarette,” she mumbles, fussing with his pocket before he can and taking another cig out, hands shaking as she lights it. she coughs once she gets a good, long drag, trying to calm down because of course it was  _ them _ . they’d been so openly pissed about the tutoring sessions and she’d heard them whispering at lunch and in the parking lot after school. 

there’s another beat of silence before she hands him the cigarette to finish off. he just takes it gently and sucks the burnt air down.

“i’m sorry i acted like a psychopath,” andy mumbles and finally drops her hand from his arm, “i was just so pissed off because no matter what i said, people didn’t believe me, and sometimes when i’m that mad i just, lose myself a little bit.”

shyly, she puts her hand on his cheek. it’s more friendly than fond, holds no real intention and billy forces himself to look at her, chest swelling uncomfortably. he usually leans away from people touching him, only lets them during a good game of ball or when they’re under him, clawing at his back while he screws their brains out. it’s surprisingly calming, her cool palm against his hot skin, keeping him grounded like an anchor.

with her hand still on him, she quickly adds, “and i’m sorry i slapped you. and shoved you into a locker,” and purses her lips.

billy lets out a single bark of laughter at that, and he runs his tongue over his lips without really meaning to. “i’ll give you props for being so ballsy, and for someone so small you’re pretty strong.”

andy shoves his shoulder a bit but then she laughs too, has too. they talked and regardless, she’s getting treated to fries and a shake tonight.

+

true to his word, steve takes andy to the diner after school. jonathan and nancy show up shortly after and they all crowd into a booth in the back corner for a few hours. they’re still a little shaken up about the past weekend but they’re all good at pretending, shoving the nightmares and anxiety away, whispering to each other if they’re ok when no one’s listening.

steve, though he’s honestly barely slept sunday night, is acting like a proud parent, buys andy garlic cheese fries and a chocolate shake, both of which she’ll probably regret eating later. an hour into their hangout, nancy starts to stare at the both of them with an extremely quizzical expression.

“what’re you staring at, nance?” steve asks, stealing a fry from andy. she protests with a close-mouthed screech.

“you two are acting like  _ real _ friends and it’s a little bit weird,” she answers slowly, “not that i’m complaining, but it’s a little weird.”

“he’s babying me,” andy protests, “and acting like my boyfriend by driving me to school and buying me cheese fries. real romantic, this one.” 

her tone sounds frustrated but they all know andy’s not complaining a bit. nancy is aware that she’s never dated anyone and secretly revels in the babying.

“you love it, don’t lie,” steve teases, dramatically throwing an arm around andy’s shoulders and leaning in to take a bite of another fry. she lets him have it this time, kinda forces it into his mouth and he coughs.

“trauma helps bring people together,” andy says whilst leaning over to take a sip of nancy’s shake - strawberry - and offer some fries to her and jonathan. “let’s thank my bum leg for keeping all of us together.”

surprisingly, it’s jonathan that cocks an eyebrow and immediately asks, “even billy hargrove?”

andy lets her mouth hang open for a second, genuinely surprised, before she shrugs. nancy comes to her aid, just a bit, and her voice thin. “i mean, he did help out in the end, even though i don’t know if it means anything in the long run.”

“we’ll see,” steve rolls his eyes, exasperated, “i’m not taking bets on that one. guy’s so unpredictable, like he actually apologized to andy today for the whole blow-”

andy, shocked, smacks his shoulder. “shush!”

“sorry,  _ whole situation _ , but who knows if he’ll still be nice to you next week, right?”

andy doesn’t want to consider that already but steve has a good point, plus nancy and jonathan are both nodding in agreement so she does too, feeling a little twist of betrayal in her stomach.

+

it’s the end the week, all smooth sailing despite the swearing at homework and staying up too late to work on essays, applications, glue projects together. andy hadn’t been too openly harassed about her leg, people mainly concerned because for some reason, an animal attack or bear trap - whatever people have settled on, honestly - was so much worse than just breaking a bone.

five minutes after the final bell rings, steve is standing by andy’s locker and billy comes up to bump him in the shoulder. it wasn’t hard but he still glares at the other boy, not even bothering to start what he knew would become an argument. 

“no smart remark, harrington?” billy asks, smiling just a bit right before andy comes up. the lack of bite in his tone is unsettling and steve’s about to say something when he’s cut off.

“jesus, can you knock it off?” andy mutters, eyeing both of them as she opens her locker with a grunt, “you’re both coming over to my place sometime so i can referee while you two duke shit out for real,  _ christ _ .” 

steve just gives her a distasteful look before sending the same one in billy’s direction, where he’s surprisingly met with a similar expression.

“how about we don’t do that?” steve suggests, and billy actually nods at that, like it’s suddenly beneath him. andy just holds her glare.

“look, i’m  _ your _ friend, steve,” she says, then gestures to billy, “and i’m just starting to find  _ you _ tolerable again, but i’m not up for this ‘the friend of my friend is my enemy’ bull, alright? at least be civil for the sake of the people around you.”

billy snorts and takes ahold of one of her crutches before it clatters to the ground. “what if i like having enemies, wilcox? is it really any of your business?” 

steve wants to say something but andy turns to billy, wobbling a bit on one leg, and sticks one red fingernail into his bare chest. “i’ll make it my business,  _ william _ , because the two of you having a dick measuring contest every time you walk by each other is getting real old, real fast. you guys killed monsters together for christ’s sake, at least try to bond over  _ that _ .” 

billy tenderly rubs the spot she poked once she moves her hand away, pouts uncharacteristically.

she snatches her crutch back and steve holds her backpack while she slams her locker shut. andy shoots billy another pointed look and he’s standing there, now looking amused that someone other than steve is throwing jabs back at him, and he shrugs. “alright, i’m game. so harrington and i are going to duke it out at your place. what’s it going to be - bare knuckled, basketball game, what?”

steve wants to scowl at andy, not wanting to be dragged into this. just because she’d settled her beef with hargrove, it didn’t mean jack shit for him. she didn’t need to fix this. he needed to apologize for fighting dirty and being an all-around asshole by his own volition. not only that, but they didn’t need to get along like best buddies; steve just wanted to not be afraid to walk too close to billy in the hallway.

“no - we’re getting drunk on valentine’s day and putting our cards out on the table.”

billy looks actually intrigued at that and steve is  _ terrified _ billy is going to try and drink him under the table, beat his kegger record again and rub it in his face, ruin the night by the two of them getting into a drunken squabble about something stupid.

“i’m always down for a good drink. harrington?” and billy’s grinning wolfishly, hand extended out to steve. 

steve, though, steve really just wants to walk away but andy is staring at him with her big amber eyes and long lashes expectantly. what happened to their fun, friendly valentine’s day full of action movies and exploiting his parents’ expensive liquor stash? still, he knows if he doesn’t say yes that billy’s going to get all pissed off and call him a pussy and/or andy’s going to tattle to nancy,  _ like she’s still got him by the heart and the balls, _ that he’s running away from his problems and then there’ll be two of them nagging him about it. 

“deal,” steve grits out.

and when he grips billy’s hand, he makes sure to shakes hard and firm.


	8. give it a try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this starts to get a bit risque at the very end of the chapter, so the mature warning has officially been enacted! i’m also sorry this took so long! i started writing a long harringrove one shot and posted that publicly and now i’m working on another one, so this got away from me a bit.
> 
> also hello, it is me, alex, the one who wrote 'lights down low'. i decided to stop posting this anonymously because i've changed the storyline and have turned it into endgame harringrove. at first i was just enjoying myself but i got sucked in way too fast with those boys and the last few chapters were hard for me to do because i didn't want to do the original ending anymore. instead i'm planning on changing the dynamics between billy/steve/andy to make it more like the trios in 'the way he looks' and 'as you are'.
> 
> more a forewarning than a spoiler, so you don't feel mislead down the road due to changed tags and the like.

valentine’s day is on a thursday this year. it’s not convenient at all considering their plans, considering any teenager’s plans really; everyone’s attempting to stave off the making out and the giving-slash-receiving of chocolate and flowers the price of a month’s allowance, for the weekend.

andy’s aunt and uncle are putzing around the house when she gets home from school, steve having dropped her off. she nearly has a heart attack when she comes inside and there’s music playing, accompanied by an unusual amount of bustling in the kitchen and living room.

" _holy hell_ what are you two doing home?” she asks, suddenly very panicked as she comes hobbling into the kitchen. her aunt mel is wearing a padded, printed jacket, loose-fitting dress pants and a silk blouse. her nails are bright red and match her lipstick while her earrings are hot pink and heart-shaped, and she’s wearing a collection of pearls on top of all the pinks and reds she’s got on. even her shoes are valentine’s themed, the only thing somewhat normal being the slacks, which are a beige color.

it’s definitely a look, but she can’t expect anything less from her aunt.

“we came home early from work to surprise you! i heard about your little date the other night and because we have plans tonight, we thought we’d set the place up for you! your uncle is in the living room putting some decorations up!” aunt mel beams.

she’s got a tray of chocolate cupcakes in hand, ones andy had frosted that morning and covered in a collection of sprinkles as per her request. her uncle’s business partner had this big valentine’s day dinner at his house every year and everyone brought desserts to share - andy was nice enough to let everyone think mel made the confectionaries she’d brought to the last few house parties, but no one at the salon was fooled. everyone there _knew_ it was a sixteen year old girl doing all the work.

“oh my god _stop listening in on my phone calls_ . and for your information i’m having _friends_ over, there was no need to go all out,” andy says, cheeks burning red, going around the corner to the living room to berate her uncle next, “i mean, i appreciate everything but - oh _no._ ”

her uncle ron is standing on the sofa taping up red streamers. there are some obnoxious heart cut-outs pinned to the walls between photo frames and hanging off the lace curtains. a bouquet of red and pink roses stands proudly in the center of the coffee table, confined to a crystalline vase and bordered by small bowls of candy. andy then spots the heart shaped candles perched on the side table next to the sofa and nearly has a fit. the living room looks like a gaudy honeymoon suite at a love hotel in vegas.

she looks out the window and into the street, praying a car passes by so she can throw herself in front of it.

“oh sweet pea, we heard about your date tonight,” her uncle finally says, looking proud and dressed in a fairly nice suit with his sleeves rolled up, his obnoxiously printed tie undone, “because we figured it was your first real valentine’s day, we figured we’d come home early and help set the mood a bit. so - what do you think?”

 _my aunt and uncle are trying to get me to second base_ , andy thinks, horrified, _the swinger theory is making more and more sense now._

“i...really appreciate it, uncle ron, but i’m just having some friends over and we’re going to just hang out and watch movies, maybe order some pizza.”

andy knows the smile she sends him looks much more like a grimace but her uncle doesn’t notice. he just continues to smile at her response and makes another off-handed comment about it being her first ‘real’ valentine’s day.

her cousin jordan had been an athlete, fairly handsome and popular during his time at hawkins high -- he won homecoming king as a senior and went to prom twice. he always had a valentine’s date; honestly, it was _expected_ of him to have a valentine’s date. for andy, not so much. it’s no wonder her aunt and uncle are making such a fuss over everything.

when she comes back into the kitchen to grab a snack, her aunt starts animatedly talking about doing her hair and makeup, pulling at andy’s pinned-back curls and fussing over her nails, complaining about the burgundy color that _she’d_ painted on needing to be a bright scarlet or baby pink. andy luckily gets out it by stating she needs to take a bath to get ready and slips away before aunt mel can go get her manicure kit.

she gets upstairs as quickly as she can with the crutches and locks the bathroom door, stares at herself in the mirror momentarily, sets the apple she nabbed off the counter. she keys in on frizzy dark curls, big brown eyes, the smattering of dark freckles spattered across her face and down her neck. there’s a pimple finally fading away on her forehead and rosacea permanently slashed across the apples of both of her cheeks. at least that’s a familial thing, not some other weird thing her body had conjured on its own -- she has her mom’s side to blame for it.

andy does run a bath eventually, after aggressively glaring at herself in the mirror and nitpicking for a good ten minutes. she unwraps her leg - rapidly healing but still looking nasty and chewed up without the bandaging - then turns up the radio and pours a few capfuls of this pink avon bubble bath into the hot water. she soaks for about an hour, hair tied into a tight, wet knot and a green clay mask smeared across her face.

she doesn’t know why she’s suddenly making such a big fuss, why she feels so giddy thinking about that floral dress laid out on her bed and the new black flats tucked under the bedskirt.

she calls nancy when she finally gets out, begs for the details of the supposed date she and jonathan were going to have that night while she starts getting ready. she doesn’t stop playing her feel-good tape, though, lets nancy hear the eurythmics blaring.

“god, you’re going to go deaf one day. anyway -- i told jonathan not to do anything too crazy,” she tuts into the receiver, “and he’d better have listened to me. he needs the money from his part-time job for more important things.”

“fair enough, but you’re still dressing up, right?” andy asks, sets the phone down momentarily so she can let her wet hair drop from the towel and give herself a gentle mist of this perfume her mother had bought her a few years ago during christmas. it had been expensive and smells like roses.

“just a bit, figured i’d at least wear a skirt and those nice boots i found at macy’s. he said we’re just staying at his place and his mom’s taking will out for takeout so we can be alone.”

“ooh, nancy wheeler you better be wearing lace panties tonight, stash those damn hanes back in your underwear drawer!” she clicks her tongue and stares at herself in the mirror, opens the robe a bit and wiggles her eyebrows to reflection.

not much gets nancy flustered but andy hears the phone drop along with a string of swears, then a low hiss of, “you pervert, _shut up_ , my mom could be listening in.”

andy pouts. “hey, i wish i was at least getting frenched on valentine’s day! the last time i made out with anyone was like two years ago at a baseball game and it wasn’t even a good kiss!”

nancy fucking _snorts_ into the phone and she scowls at her reflection. “fuck off, nancy.”

“i’m sorry. sort-of. i should probably go, i still have to do some homework before jonathan picks me up and i’m going to attempt to pull off that red lipstick you talked me into buying. have fun with steve.”

it’s then that andy realizes she hadn’t told nancy that now billy’s tagging along, too. she’s much too relaxed about this situation so she obviously isn’t aware of that and andy _knows_ steve wouldn’t have said anything. he’s probably still mad about it. sure, she feels bad that she’d pulled billy into their friendly quote-on-quote date night, but everytime she sees the two cross paths, the atmosphere shifts and now that both her _and_ billy are wrapped up in this parallel dimension business, she figures they’d all at least be civil with one another.

especially if there was a higher chance any of them could get turned into dinner for a slimy black monster with a fuckload of teeth and a flower for a head.

she can’t help thinking that billy’s being strangely compliant about this all, too. he’d pulled up next to her in the parking lot before steve picked her up and sent her a wink, said he _couldn’t wait for tonight_ before max made a disgusted face at him from the passenger side and they drove off.

“same to you nance, have fun. oh! make sure you have condoms-”

nancy grumbles something andy figures she’s not supposed to hear, then says, “bye, asshole,” into the receiver.

+

when steve pulls up to the house it’s already getting dark out and there’s no sight of the camaro. the sun hangs low and the wide, open sky above the horizon line is running dark blue. it’s getting close to seven now, and he’s a bit early.

he’d run into his mother before she made her way out to some valentine’s-slash-business dinner with his father and had momentarily fixed his hair, re-folded his collar and made an off-handed remark that _a gentleman would buy his date some flowers! didn’t nancy like bouquet you got her last year?_ because of course his mother wouldn’t remember that he had told her that he and nancy had split months back.

“oh sweetheart, i’m sorry,” she’d said, only after two subtle reminders about their break up. she was already halfway to the door when she sent him that practiced, soft frown. “well whoever she is must be, she must be nice if you’re so cleaned up. go pick her up some flowers, will you? i’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

she moved back to press a waxy red kiss to his forehead, then smeared it away a bit with her thumb before she was joining his father in the car, where he was waiting impatiently.

steve looks at the bouquet of roses sitting in the passenger seat. they’re bright yellow -- he had begged the very confused florist to help him find something that wasn’t going to convey the wrong idea and had gone with yellow. it had helped that most all the pinks and reds had been sold. _yellow was absolutely fine._ he doubts andy’s going to think he’s suddenly in love with her regardless, but he’d rather be careful about it anyway.

there’s also the bottle of white zinfandel - he promised he’d find something gaudy - and a big thing of overpriced vodka, figures they can mix it with some coke or orange juice, maybe even do some shots if they really want to be fucked up on friday. vodka isn’t even really his thing, but he’s not versed enough in alcohol besides beer and the expensive shit his dad has, to do any serious mixing with the surplus of rums he’d found tucked in the back of the booze cupboard.

that and steve’s come to school hungover before, sick off a mix of shitty beer and cheap rums and fruit juices he’d guzzled down at some shitty house parties. he’d rather not have a repeat.

he’s trying to balance the bottles and flowers when the camaro pulls up in andy’s driveway with a screech of tires and blaring music. steve glares and irritation immediately bubbles up inside of him. he stays put while he watches billy saunter out of the driver’s side. he’s got a cigarette pinched between his lips - big surprise there - as he shrugs on his jacket, the black leather one he’d donned on halloween when he’d stalked over all shirtless and glistening.

“well aren’t you a charmer, harrington,” billy mocks, coming over to the beamer instead of heading up to the front door, “flowers, drinks, my my, you’re looking for a good time tonight.”

“and it’ll be a good time if you’re on your best behavior,” steve snarks.

billy’s eyebrows shoot up but there’s no malice on his face. he looks uncharacteristically pleased, even coy, as a little jilted grin spreads across his lips.

he suddenly turns on his heel and heads for the front door, doesn’t turn around when he says “no promises there,” and rings andy’s doorbell, leaving steve to try and balance the bouquet and liquor on his own.

+

there was something unsettling about being inside of a girl’s house with another guy.

it felt a bit like a porno setup, like andy was going to have to choose between the sweet rich boy that brought her flowers and the shirtless bad boy for her valentine’s date, but would soon end up pressed between the two of them on her knees with one cock stuffed down her throat while the other fucked her well from behind.

harrington had told andy she looked pretty when they walked in. she wearing some knee length floral print dress that fell off her shoulders just a bit and there are black beads hanging from her neck. her hair was wilder and bigger than usual, naturally curly versus those frizzy tight curls most of the other girls their age had. her cheeks are rosy and the shadow around her eyes is dark and smokey in contrast to her glossy red lips.

and despite her leg still being wrapped up and the crutches pinned under her arms, billy mumbled a somewhat genuine compliment about her appearance. harrington wasn’t the only one who could play gentleman.

plus she was offering food and booze -- he figured it’d be in his best interest to play polite for now and not poke and prod harrington every second. he acts like he’s deeply interested in the gaudy paper decorations strewn up everywhere in the living room instead. everything is red, pink and white against the brown walls, reminding him of susan’s awful home living magazines that sit neatly in a basket next to his weight set.

andy’s just putting harrington’s flowers in a vase while harrington goes about mixing them something to drink, digging through the cabinet on top of the fridge.

“don’t mix alcohols, it’ll fuck you up,” billy says gruffly when he hears steve mention something about the few bottles of schnapps he’d found, along with the vodka he’d nabbed.

the _i know_ _that_ he receives sounds irritated and tired.

he comes ‘round the corner to eye what the older boy’s whipping up, jumps up on the counter and knocks his heels against the cabinets. there’s a collection of frosted cakes resting on crystalline cake platters spread out on the countertop, along with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn - he can still smell the butter and salt wafting through the kitchen - and a few boxes of pizza, unopened. they’re radiating heat and the heavenly aroma of melted cheese and baked bread.

andy, leaning on one crutch as she ducks down to pull out some plates, speaks into the cupboard and it muffles her voice. “i thought that was the purpose of tonight?”

“can’t come home too drunk,” he says, suddenly feeling annoyed at the prospect of having to go home later, “dad’ll smell it on me and ground me or something.”

 _or something_ is much more likely if his dad catches him hungover the next morning or hears the car pull up that night with a drunk seventeen year old in the driver’s seat. but andy and harrington don’t need to know that, don’t really deserve to know that. no one does.

“i’ll sober you up, don’t worry,” andy shrugs, “if you have to, you can crash on the couch.”

billy snorts at that. as if the jackasses at hawkins high won’t get more sick ideas out of that. she’d just finally stopped being bent out of shape over being accused of putting out for him while other girls would give their left tit to have his hand on their thigh or lips on their neck. he knows it; everyone knows it.

suddenly billy’s attention is on harrington, who’s digging through the fridge with a frown on his face. “i think i’m kinda fucking up here,” he grumbles, “you find something to make.”

“fine.”it’s not like it’s a problem -- harrington’s probably just feeling under pressure and is drawing a blank. can’t imagine the guy doesn’t know how to mix a cocktail or whatever.

billy’s mixed drinks at parties a few times, had filled up popular girls’ red solo cups and left the imprint of beer and smoke on their fruity, glossed mouths as he kissed them and swapped the cough syrup-sweet concoctions between their lips and his.

it didn’t feel like anything, anyway - the only rush from that came from the jealousy, the eyes watching and burning green with envy or growing dark with arousal. that’s where the spark came from, not from kissing tipsy girls who ran their manicured hands down his bare, carved torso to the top button of his jeans while he pulled moans from their throats.

to be envied and desired, that’s what really got him off. that’s what he kept telling himself, at least.

he mixes andy orange juice and peach schnapps, can’t remember the name of the drink itself but knows it sounds awfully unappealing by his own standards. he drops a big maraschino cherry in her glass for good measure and she takes a good long swig before shooting him an impressed look.

harrington gets cranberry juice and vodka and stares at him long and hard when he gets the glass nearly thrust into his chest. “i don’t usually mix vodka,” billy bristles as harrington scowls a little and stares down into the red drink, “if it’s not good enough _for you_ i’ll chug it.”

harrington mutters something nasty sounding but he doesn’t bite back, not with the way andy is staring him down from near the stove. he knows she’s choked on his dick and had her tongue in his mouth a few times but he doubts he’s going to get a repeat of either of those things. that and tonight she’s essentially playing chaperone.

admittedly the frenching and blowjob were fun, but only because andy didn’t kiss like most other girls. she didn’t have a soft cherry mouth and fell limp while letting out kitten mewls as he held the back of her head as he kissed her. the cold indiana air was cruel to her lips, often leaving them smothered in vaseline and partially chapped, and she growled, bit back when he got more aggressive.

it felt more primal, more natural, _more right_. he’d swallowed those thoughts down as those atypical kisses made his stomach twist uncomfortably and knowingly - they weren’t like most girl kisses. andy kissed the way he did, controlling and domineering, like she was trying to pin him down with her mouth.

like boys did.

“‘s fine,” harrington says suddenly, making billy nearly jump. he plops some cherries into the glass, probably to sweeten it up, “thanks.”

billy shrugs one shoulder before corking the bottles and putting them back in the liquor cabinet, but not before grabbing himself a mostly full bottle of whiskey. he figures after this they’ll chug the pink, hoighty-toighty sparkling shit a little later if they’re already starting off with schnapps, vodka and whiskey. fine with him.

pizza boxes in one hand, brown bottle in the other, he follows andy and harrington into the living room. andy visibly flushes when harrington points out all the paper hearts and streamers with a grin and she blusters out something about it being her aunt and uncle’s fault. billy just settles into an armchair a few feet off from the sofa and makes a face at one of the tissue paper streamers that’s fallen over the back of his seat.

apparently there were going to be movies but billy couldn’t care less. he wanted to drink and listen to harrington spill his guts and complain about stupid shit rich people bitched about.

andy spreads some tapes out on the floor - _footloose, dune, sixteen candles, splash, gremlins, the thing_ \- and looks at him and harrington for some input. again, billy couldn’t care less but prays harrington picks something that isn’t absolutely god-awful and claims a box of pepperoni for himself, waves a slice of pizza in andy’s direction and pulls a frown out of her.

“well you’re real fucking help,” she huffs. “steve?”

“nothing too girly.”

harrington is laying across the sofa with his own box of pizza balanced on his chest. he’s already got his shoes kicked off onto the gaudy ornate rug covering the center of the room and looks completely content. he’d brought the popcorn in and has it settled on the table behind him.

“screw both of you, i don’t know why i asked.”

billy wants to make some snippy remark, wants to get drunk and get this theoretical, proposed therapy session out of the way. he doesn’t even understand _why_ andy’s so worked up that him and harrington have this back-and-forth type relationship. it’s honestly none of her business and the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to get annoyed.

not wanting to kill his buzz though, he takes a big swallow of whiskey, lets it burn its way down his throat before he takes a big bite out of a pizza slice. it’s still hot and the cheese strings as he bites into it but it’s still good. it doesn’t come close to some of the joints he loved back in california but figures it’s fine by indiana, or at least hawkins’ standards.

andy settles onto the opposite armchair, puts her crutches on the ground as she kicks her feet up. she’d thrown in sixteen candles, pulling a groan out of both him and harrington, but promises after this she’ll throw in something good and bloody, or at least sci-fi.

billy half pays attention to the thing, gets about half the bottle down when he starts to feel the familiar sleepy buzz that comes with being tipsy. andy’d sucked down her concoction within twenty minutes and then held her glass up, beaming and asking for _more, please_. harrington had finished his just after the movie started, chugging with intention, and then he wanders back into the kitchen once andy is finished, goes to mix her the same thing with a few extra cherries.

watching harrington dig around in the liquor cabinet holds his attention better than the film, primarily due to all the alcohol in his system, or so billy thinks. at least what he wants to think.

tonight harrington could be the poster child for prep magazine - dressed in fitted slacks complete with a thick leather belt, a pastel pink button-up tucked in. he’s got a few buttons undone at the top, though, not as far down as billy prefers to wear his shirts, but enough that it seems somewhat uncharacteristic for the guy. he looks like he’s going to some springtime wedding or a garden party and billy wants to laugh.

he doesn’t though, is too buzzed and pretending to be on his best behavior. andy may be small and remind him far too much of an angry pomeranian when she was pissed, but pomeranians still had teeth - they could still bite.

“you need help in there, harrington?” he calls, watching as steve nearly drops the pink bottle he’d brought in earlier -- he bites back laughter and andy sends him a weird look before turning her attention back to the screen.

harrington glares up at the ceiling like he’s cursing god. “i’m fine, thanks,” he replies, voice stony and irritated.

he comes back out a minute later, handing andy her glass before he settles back down on the sofa with the pink bottle. it’s expensive champagne or some shit, something that’ll make you giggly and pliant the more you chug. he’d kill to see ex-keg king harrington go giggly like a schoolgirl and moan about how sweet nancy wheeler left him, and now he’s just trying to stay her friend so when she’s tired of freak boy byers, she can just go back to him.

the thought of that makes his gut twist, though. he’d only heard handfuls of rumors and whatever bullshit tommy told him about wheeler and harrington, how steve had been _so cool_ but then cozied up to wheeler and he stopped going to parties, stopped hanging out with his old friends. how he turned bitch and played the role of doting, sweet boyfriend. he’d seen it happen before, seen cool guys get wrapped up in some nice, nerdy girl that was just cute enough. they’d completely seclude themselves just to make their girlfriends happy and lose all cred once dumped, now just sad-saps and has-beens.

but even billy had to admit that what nancy wheeler did to him ticked him off a bit. the whole thing about harrington being _bullshit_ and her not loving him after being together for almost a year was pretty damn harrowing -- then she skipped class and ran off with byers and they’re together at school, harrington obviously uncomfortable hanging out with them all the time but not having anyone else to turn to.

billy knows now he wasn’t in the right for beating harrington’s face in the way he did, but he had a fucking temper, has had one for far too long and the fact he had to cancel his plans and get shoved around by his dad only to drive out to fucking nowhere to pick up his shit-head step sister, only for harrington to _lie_ about her being there -- he thinks at least him being pissed off is justified. maybe he’s not justified for the plate or how he went after the sinclair kid, but he at least is justified in being pissed off at harrington’s lying. that just acted as the fucking rotten cherry on the shitty cake that night was.

billy half-watches the movie after that, after the overthinking and need to justify his actions makes his stomach hurt and the alcohol burn more. he keeps up his drinking though, keeps chugging while harrington nurses the bottle of rosy pink whatever-the-hell, passes it to andy at some point and lets her sip off the bottle.

she’d downed both mixers, the bubbly pink shit and then some water to try and keep hold of some sobriety, but even the pizza isn’t helping stave off the tipsiness. they’re halfway in and billy’s starting to get pissed off for poor molly ringwald’s character and her shitty family when andy hobbles off to the kitchen and asks one of them for help. billy wobbles a bit as he stands but goes in after her, groaning under the blinding fluorescent lights above.

“what’cha need?” he asks, leaning against the counter as she putters around the display of frosted desserts she’d already had out when they got there. she’s moving a good chunk of them onto a plate when she regards him.

“put these on the coffee table please, i can’t use the crutches and carry these at the same time.”

she hands him this round decorative plate filled with the delicately frosted confectionaries, all of them topped with fresh fruit. he can see chocolate and vanilla cakes with a few red velvet thrown in. some are just simple cupcakes while the other ones have filled layers and have roses piped on the tops of them, complete with sugar pearls.

“jesus, how much did you spend on these?” he asks, dipping his finger into some chocolate frosting and earning a little angry noise from the girl.

“hey! i didn’t buy them, i made them.”

billy’s eyes widen as andy arranges them carefully on the plate so they’re not touching. yeah, the pancakes at the byers’ house were pretty good, but they didn’t require the skill level that patisserie-level cupcakes did. “ _you_ made these? all the little details and shit?”

andy looks almost bored of him and shoos him out of the kitchen with a flit of her hand. “ _yes_ i did. my grandmother taught me how to bake and i was bored a lot in chicago, so i’m semi decent at it now.”

billy thinks he could have an orgasm if he keeps eating the chocolate frosting. maybe it’s mousse, ganache? he has no idea, is definitely not a guy who knows his baking shit beyond the principles and basics, but it’s creamy and rich and fucking _delicious._ he manages to finish one before he’s even back in the living room.

once he sets the plate on the table harrington nearly lunges for a red velvet one. he gets a handful of the whipped frosting as he scoops it up and delicately kitten-licks it off his long fingers, settling his drink down as he does so. he then pops the strawberry in his mouth but not after sucking the white cream off of it first. he catches billy’s eye for a moment and just raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he continues to lap the remaining frosting off his fingertips.

billy blames the alcohol for the shiver that runs up his spine and turns his attention away. still, he sensually licks the chocolate frosting off a second cupcake and hopes harrington is watching.

+

the movie’s long been completed and they’re halfway through _gremlins_ \- not ‘horror’ enough to not make him or harrington whine about it, but creepy enough that it semi-satisfies both of them - when they’re sitting on the floor in the low light of andy’s awfully decorated living room and she’s definitely a little drunk, leaning against the coffee table with a fistful of cold popcorn.

billy’s downed the whiskey at this point and is feeling warm in the pit of his belly. he’s stolen some of the zinfandel steve had brought, prissy as it was, and took a few shots of vodka to start their ‘bonding session’. steve’s sitting against the sofa with his legs stretched out a bit in front of him, his knees knocking into the coffee table and the now empty zinfandel bottle in his lap. he too had taken a few sips off the absolut after billy had nearly smacked him in the jaw with it, most likely on accident -- seeing how buzzed he is.

andy’s talking now, tossing popcorn in her mouth now and then as she focuses on the collection of roses sitting on the table. she, too, had stolen some nips of the vodka.

“my mom,” she starts, hiccups a bit, “my mom and i, we do _not_ get along. we haven’t gotten along since after her an’ my dad divorced. i think she thought she was better than him, because she worked in hospitals and he was ‘just’ a cop -- that’s why i stayed in chicago, because she said anywhere where she was was going to be better than where he was because of her _job_.”

“what a bitch.” steve suddenly mumbles, does it before he even notices it, and andy’s eyebrows shoot up. billy works on biting back laughter as he goes in for a handful of popcorn, gaze switching between the two of them. at first there’s fear written on his face and he’s afraid he’s gone too far, but then andy smirks and takes a few more popcorn kernels in hand.

“honestly, she totally is, to me at least. and then she got this boyfriend, _ugh_ , what a fucking dick. he moved in with us and everything, either ignored me or would talk to me like i was incompetent an’ like, in the way all the time? honestly, i’d walk back to chicago barefoot if it meant i got to kick him straight in the balls.”

her voice goes dangerously low and billy cackles around a mouthful of popcorn while steve stares at andy with an absolutely stunned expression, eyebrows drawn up and mouth slightly agape.

“i’d give like, twenty bucks to see you knee someone in the nads,” billy says, laughter finally dying and wetness collecting in the corners of his eyes. his cheeks are flushed and the blurry buzz of the alcohol is coursing under his skin. steve nods in agreement, equally buzzed but feeling much less awake. the lack of partying he took part in these days definitely affected his alcohol tolerance.

“you guys just agreed on something,” andy gasps, pointing between the two of them sluggishly as if they were unaware of the other’s presence, “oh my god, god is real, miracles exist, you’re _welcome._ ”

her lipstick is mostly off at this point and she’s sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, barefoot and with her legs completely exposed. steve purposely looks away at the flash of her underwear and thinks andy should chug some water and go to bed. he’s not going to say that out loud, though -- he’s not going to risk intentionally being stuck with billy hargrove while the one person that could soothe his mood swings was passed out drunk.

billy rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, then leans back against the side of the worn armchair he spent most of the evening residing in. “don’t get your panties in a twist, wilcox, it’d just be a kick to see. you’re so damn small he probably wouldn’t even see it coming.”

steve nods - fair point - while andy is absolutely unamused at that, mutters out something about her mother’s boyfriend deserving it, and makes grabby hands for the absolut like a toddler reaching for candy.

“i think you’re done drinking for tonight,” steve says, gently pushing her wriggling fingers away and shooting billy an unamused look as he reaches for the big glass bottle.

“ _steve_ you’re no fun,” andy accuses. suddenly she’s leaning on his shoulder and rubbing her nose in his neck. he goes still but doesn’t stop her, lets her nuzzle into his collarbone softly and press her body weight against his shoulder. “i wanted you guys to _bond.”_

andy makes another grab for the bottle and billy moves it to his other side, now seeing just how out of it she is, looking sleepy and rosy-cheeked against harrington’s shoulder. he looks like a reluctant boyfriend holding up his embarrassingly wasted girlfriend at a house party and billy decides to take pity on her.

“maybe we’ll bond later,” he muses, making his voice low and smooth like caramel. he gently pokes the tip of andy’s nose and she wrinkles it, squints under hooded eyes. her eye makeup is a little smeared around the corners and there’s a smudge of red lipstick on her cupid’s bow but he has to admit she’s a little cute like this. not in the way that he wants to take her to dinner and a movie, but in the way he could admire a stranger’s attractiveness without committing to it.

andy snuffles into steve’s neck again and her eyes keep fluttering closed.

“i think she needs to sleep this off,” steve whispers.

“she’s still going to be pretty fucking hungover in the morning.”

“yeah, but if she keeps trying to stay up and drink she’s gonna be really damn sick tomorrow.”

billy frowns, just a bit, because he knows steve is right. he sighs and slowly rises, feeling a bit dizzy as he straightens out and looks down at harrington. he’s propping andy up gently and she’s muttering nothings to him, adamant and trying to stay awake.

“i didn’t even get t’ kiss anyone,” she whines. “one of you, kiss me.”

“andy, you’re drunk. like the drunkest out of the three of us. i’m not going to kiss you and neither is hargrove.”

“you don’t have to _french_ me, steven, just a little one, like it’s our first date and you just drove me home after a respectful night of, y’know, hand on the waist and holding doors open.”

steve rolls his eyes and actually looks at billy for help, but he’s just towering above them with a smirk on his face, just fucking _eating it up_ , the bastard. “fine, _one,_ on the cheek.”

and he gently places a light kiss to the apple of andy’s left cheek, just like how he would in the scenario she’d slurred out, and she giggles, tickles his jaw with her hair as she hides her face in his shoulder. when she pulls away a moment later, she lolls her head back and looks up at billy, beaming.

“your turn.”

billy makes a noise, unsure and deep in his throat. she’s _so_ damn tipsy, exactly like how she was at the end of that party. she had to be touching and be touched constantly, held up and lead around as she stumbled about on her own. at least she wasn’t a weepy drunk like some of the girls billy knew. they killed his mood almost instantly and left him an irritable mess even if he managed to ditch them.

still, he leans down over harrington, almost kneeing him in the ear, and presses a kiss to andy’s forehead. he lingers for a moment as she stares up at him with her big, tired brown eyes. he was expecting her to pull him down and go for it like they had before, but he’d immediately have to pull away. he wasn’t going to take advantage of her, or anyone in her state, for that matter.

instead, andy smooths his hair out of his face with gentle fingers and smiles at him a bit. she reveals a small blue bruise half hidden by the few loose curls usually in his face, and frowns. her fingers ghost over it temporarily and he jerks away, stands upright again like he’d been burned.

steve stares at him but doesn’t say anything. instead, he reaches down and holds a hand out for andy. she slowly gets up and sways a bit while she stands.

“can you walk?” he asks, and she nods, but as she attempts to grab her crutches she nearly face plants into the coffee table. both him and billy grab at her before she falls, the two of them letting out their own panicked noise and sigh of relief.

“i’m gonna take that as a no.”

“i’ll carry her, hargrove, just grab the crutches and that glass of water.”

“yes, _dear_ ,” billy says mockingly, with a bit of bite.

steve clumsily hitches the brunette up on his back, taking a few attempts and a boost from billy, until she’s clinging to him much like koala bear. he holds her legs firm while billy takes her crutches and grabs her abandoned glass of water and leads steve upstairs.

he gestures to the left end of the hallway when they get to the second floor and gruffly says, “it’s the door at the end.”

steve almost forgets how he knows that -- almost.

billy flicks the light on, making all three of them wince a bit. the overhead light is much too bright against the off-white of the room. it is clean though, at least by steve’s standards -- has enough personality in the decor. he’s seen a few bedrooms belonging to teenage girls in his life. it’s not as pristine and pastel as nancy’s is, but there’s something warm about it just the same. he takes in the messiness of her desk, the miscellaneous pots, tubes and jars at the vanity, the array of posters and cutouts pinned and taped to the walls, then the pristinely made bed pushed up against the far windowsill.

he walks over and gently lays andy on the bed, then carefully slips her flats, bracelets and the beaded necklace off, not wanting her to be strangled in her sleep. she allows him, just barely moving, as her head hits the pillows and rolls against them for a moment. billy sets her glass down before he plucks a quilt off of her desk chair and drapes it over her form, watching as she slowly curls into a ball underneath it and pulls the cool fabric tighter around her body.

andy has this way of looking impossibly young when she’s tired, even with most of her makeup on and her pristine, long nails.

both boys watch her for a moment, not knowing what to do next as it seems she’s already dropped off into sleep. quietly, they head toward the exit, nearly knocking shoulders as they walk side by side, when her voice stops them.

“billy, ‘s your bruise better?” andy asks drowsily, eyes closed.

“what?”

“your bruise, on your chest, is it okay?”

his blood runs cold and he stops, harrington doing the same. he doesn’t look at her and instead stares at the brown shag carpeting in the stark overhead light. he thinks back to that car ride where he’d been too frustrated at her pushing to say sorry, too wrapped up in what the rumors were doing for his reputation to really try, and how she pointed out the bruise blooming purple on his chest.

a nice, continuous set of jabs to the chest from your dickhead of a father usually tends to leave a bit of tenderness, but he wasn’t so lucky in that case. the mark had been obviously blue and violet.

“oh, yeah, yeah, it’s fine, went away awhile ago. go to sleep, wilcox.”

“m’kay, g’night, thank you for the kisses.”

steve just shakes his head with a small smile and leans andy’s door shut, billy already halfway down the stairs when he turns back around.

+

steve feels out of place in andy’s living room with her asleep upstairs. the house is mostly dark, save for the few tableside lamps flicked on in the area they’ve confined themselves to. the streamers and decorations are becoming more and more gaudy with each passing minute, making the room look like a homemade version of a high school prom.

both of them are sitting on the floor against the sofa. the bottle of absolut sits on its side, mostly gone, the only thing between them. billy’s sitting with his head tipped back on the cushion, his arms resting in his lap and legs folded up. his eyes are closed and his breathing has slowed but he’s still awake. _fast times at ridgemont high_ is playing softly.

steve had rewound and put _gremlins_ back in its case, then dug through the drawer of tapes for something to fill the silence. andy’s aunt and uncle have an offensive amount of films, similar to the collection at his place with a few more eclectic titles.

apparently they’re both _star trek_ and _star wars_ fans.

“any preferences?” steve had asked, flicking through the titles. billy grunted - big help that was - and steve settled on something light-hearted or at least a little comical. so, _fast times._ he’s the only one really watching, but then they’re at the scene where stacy is about to lose her virginity in the softball dugout when billy looks up again.

“you ever fuck in a dugout, harrington?” he asks.

steve shoots him an annoyed look as an answer, but billy just raises his eyebrows as if to urge him on. “not in a dugout,” steve finally says, looking down at his lap, “got to second base with laurie bergman sophomore year on the bleachers on the football field, made out with a few girls under said bleachers.”

steve pauses and then adds, with a swallow, “you?”

billy shakes his head. “nah, never fucked in a dugout. bleachers, couches, chairs, beds definitely. but i did blown in the dugout like two years ago and it was the sloppiest head i’ve ever had.”

steve nods, awkward. he knows billy has a reputation, much like he had a reputation. even when people bring up his past, they also love to remind him he’d turned ‘bitch’ after nancy and it doesn’t matter anymore.

he doesn’t know for sure when it comes to billy, but there was some speculation about whether or not his sex life was fictional or real, but steve hadn’t ever lied, hadn’t padded his experiences. the handful of girls he’d been with proudly confirmed people’s speculations. he could still remember their smiles and flushed cheeks -- he used to coax his tongue between glossed lips and slip a hand up the girl’s thigh, or up the front of her shirt, over her bra, and kiss her until she was laying down with her arms wrapped around his neck.

now, most every girl at hawkins high wants a piece of billy hargrove and will lie if it gets her potentially noticed by him or even credibility for getting the privilege to bang the hot, tanned california boy. so yeah, steve had had a reputation but he never lied about, never let people get away with making shit up. hargrove eats it up, though, almost encourages it. every time someone asks hargrove if he’s been with someone, he just smiles and shrugs like he can’t remember how many people he’s screwed.

he could be lying now but steve’s seen him with his hands on enough girl’s asses and the series of hickies he leaves on their necks. it’s an exaggeration, if anything.

“you think i’m lying, don’t you?”

like billy read his damn mind, steve snaps his focus back to the blond. the shot on the television is panning out of the dugout while he looks away, just before it cuts to the next scene.

“uh, no,” steve chokes out, “i didn’t, don’t-”

“well i’m not, not totally.”

so steve was half-right, in a way, and he’s stunned billy actually said something honest without making a joke out of it or acting like a prick before admitting it.

“not totally?” steve repeats back, eyebrow cocked up. he twists away from the television a bit and watches hargrove’s bright blue eyes. he’s hoping he’ll get a story for confirmation or something, even if he’s still feeling fuzzy around the edges.

billy clicks his tongue. “i’ve never like, _totally_ fucked anyone. i got in for two seconds one time with this one chick but she told me to stop because her parents were home and blew me instead. but don’t get it twisted harrington, i’m no virgin,” and he looks _so_ damn proud of himself then, “i’ve had my dick down enough throats and my fingers and tongue in enough cunts for it to count for something.”

“don’t be gross, dude.” steve wrinkles his nose, wills away the image of billy hargrove’s dick that he’s gotten a few eyefuls of in the showers, being slipped passed pink lips.

“hey i’ve heard the shit people say about you man,” hargrove snorts, “you’re no saint, either. you were just fucking the same hole for a year, but that doesn’t mean jack considering your track record beforehand.”

heat comes to steve’s cheeks as the insinuation of nancy coming up and merely being labeled something as nasty and honestly, _disrespectful_ , as a hole. “don’t talk shit about nance, man, i mean it.”

“man, she fucking dumped you for byers! i don’t care how well she can shoot a gun or how fuckin’ smart or pretty you _still_ think she is, she ripped your pretty little heart out and then wanted to be your _friend_ afterwards. that’s a low fucking blow and you still took it.”

the heat spreads through his veins and settles in his chest because billy’s _right_. at times he was infuriated over everything, felt like he’d had his time wasted and was made out to be an idiot, especially after how hard he tried to be the best version of himself for nancy. but other times he was just upset about it, how he gave so much but in the end it wasn’t enough. he’d shed tears once or twice for his own sake, but billy didn’t need to know that.

“shut up,” is all he can manage. and thankfully billy just looks at him and shrugs, but doesn’t say anything else.

not until the scene with the pool, at least. they both know what’s coming then because billy whistles and steve’s staring straight ahead. linda and stacy are laid out on their towels, dressed in bikinis by the pool taking some lover’s quiz when mark and damone pop over for a swim.

“fuckin’ idiot,” billy laughs as linda walks in on brad jacking off in the bathroom a few minutes later, “what kinda moron doesn’t lock the door?”

steve manages a chuckle and nods in agreement when billy elbows him in the side.

“when was the last time you go laid, harrington?” billy asks, trying to be non committal as his eyes don’t stray from the screen.

“christ, what is with you tonight? _not enough bitches in the sea_ ?” he mocks, lowering his voice and everything. he hopes billy is going to stop grilling him about his sex life but steve’s luck has run out in the past couple of months. billy is being uncharacteristically friendly but he still _pushes._

“man, it’s valentine’s day and i’m not getting any, just humor me.”

steve sighs and thinks back to the last time. it was with nancy, months back now and two weeks before the halloween party fiasco. they were at his place, just like the first time, rolling around on the duvet tugging each other’s clothes off while sharing wet kisses. he slipped his fingers in gently and she rocked back on his hand, dug her nails into his shoulders up until he traded his hand for something else. she’d keened and bit his neck until he pulled out, yanked off the rubber finished on her stomach.

he rubs his thighs together momentarily at the memory.

“it was, y’know, before we broke up,” and billy shoots him an unimpressed look, “jesus, before she _dumped me_. it was at my place, uh, she was helping me with an essay and then we start, y’know, making out. one thing leads to another, and yeah.”

billy snorts and throws his head back, smacking his hand against the couch cushion next to steve’s shoulder.

“oh you can do better than that, _c’mon_ harrington, gimme some details. if it’ll make you feel better, i’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he says, exasperated, and steve chokes on his spit at the last part.

he’s praying billy’s being figurative, but the guy also approached him in the shower back in november, fully naked, called him pretty and pat him on the shoulder whilst standing less than a foot away.

and steve may or may not have fought a stiffy over that late that night, but he’s not going to admit that to anyone, let alone billy hargrove. he’s trying to deny it to himself even now and continues to mentally pray that billy was being figurative before he continues.

“god, _fine_. you’re a perv, you know that?”

billy runs his tongue over his pink bottom lip and turns to face steve completely, laying his head back on the cushion and resting his hands on one knee. he looks damn satisfied. “c’mon harrington, the alcohol’s wearing off.”

“shut up or i won’t tell you, smartass,” he huffs, adjusts himself on the carpet so he’s looking straight into hargrove’s eyes, suddenly all stormy and blown out, “so we’re like, making out or whatever and i move the books and papers out of the way so we can spread out, and she gets in my lap and everything...and actually, this is too goddamn weird, nevermind.”

steve’s face is as red as a tomato and has to look away from billy’s face. it feels _wrong_ to be talking about this and not just because it’s about nancy, who has another boyfriend now. it’s because he’s sharing this with the guy who _beat his face in_ and who, even now that they’re on slightly better terms, harrasses him at every twist and turn and will definitely spread this around and use it as fuel when he sees it fit.

“alright, _princess_ ,” billy quips. “i’ll be nice and share with you because i’m not a pansy-ass.”

“hargrove, we don’t have to talk about this kind of crap, man, seriously. i thought you were just fucking around. just watch the movie, yeah?”

billy tilts his head to the side and smirks. “usually i _am_ fucking around on valentine’s day, but the last chick that blew me had a big moral thing about it afterwards and vicki is hot but she always grabs my ass like she’s kneading bread when we’re making out. so - unless you’re going to get your hand on my dick, shut up and listen.”

steve’s heart jumps up to his throat right then and just the thought makes his dick give a twitch of interest. but steve’s not, he’s not _gay_. especially not for billy hargrove and his dick, even if he is admittedly, from somewhere deep down and secret inside of steve, just as pretty as he is an asshole.

 _i’m just wound up, it’s been too long,_ steve tells himself, _the idea of a handjob, especially the idea of giving one to a dude i’m not even friends with, is fucking insane._

and then there’s a hand on his knee sending a bolt of electricity up his spine. steve looks down and there’s billy hargrove’s big, calloused hand spread over his knee, over his dress pants, and _god_ he feels it again, the slight twinge down south.

“listen up, this is a good fuckin’ story alright, and - oh my god harrington, is your dick hard?”

“fuck _off_ hargrove, it’s because of you and all your sex talk and i haven’t gotten laid in months-”

“holy shit, i can’t believe you’re chubbing up when i’ve barely said anything!”

billy’s laughing but it doesn’t sound mocking, it sounds airy and full of disbelief. steve can blame the topic of conversation all he wants, but hargrove just joking about steve getting him off was enough to start this whole situation.

“dude, look,” steve nearly whimpers, so embarrassed he could die as hargrove’s gaze zeroes in on his crotch, “don’t fucking bring this up, i swear, it was an _accident.”_

billy’s nearly wiping tears away when he shoots steve a look that he can definitively say is a split between pity and interest. he would think hargrove simply feels sorry for him if he didn’t catch the way his cheeks are going pink and the way his tongue is tracing the seam of his lips.

“don’t worry harrington, i’m not gonna tell people about your awkward boner.”

“thanks. appreciate it,” steve says, ears burning. billy’s hand is still on his leg.

“you want some help with it, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way, i still have porn i wrote months ago that follows my original plans for this fic and i’ll probably post it eventually. just know it’s not really canon-compliant to the storyline now. plus, i spent a lot of time writing and editing it and i don't want it to sit in my docs for the rest of time, lmao.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments welcomed and greatly appreciated! talk to me!  
> also - thank you for taking interest in my self-indulgence.


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